


Treasure of the Sea

by HeckinaHandbasket



Series: Ahoy Mateys [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Ahoy Ladies more like Ahoy Mateys, Alpha Billy Hargrove, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Billy wants to pillage Steve’s village is where I’m going with this, Bodice-Ripper, Dubious Consent, Hop In This Handbasket We’re Going To Heck, I'm Sorry This Is What Happens When You Grew Up On Bodice-Ripper Trashy Novels, Listen if this fic makes you lose respect for me then hard same, M/M, Omega Steve Harrington, because omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeckinaHandbasket/pseuds/HeckinaHandbasket
Summary: Billy lifted his clean-shaven chin with the tip of his sword, admiring the way the bruise on his cheek brought out his eyes, blood staining his lips like a harlot’s rouge. He was damn pretty, for a Beta.“What say you, Captain Harrington? Do you surrender your ship and crew?”Captain Harrington’s eyes narrowed, jaw firming as he held steady on his knees, refusing to lean away from Billy’s sword. It made something queer tighten low in Billy’s stomach to watch him hold strong.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Ahoy Mateys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961347
Comments: 230
Kudos: 840
Collections: Strangers Things





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve never written Omegaverse before. I have mixed feelings about this. Let me know what you think.

The crew of the HMS Hawkins had much on which to hang their pride. They had fought bravely and valiantly, standing their ground in the face of the skull and crossbones, never flinching as the infamous Captain Hargrove flew his colors high.

They each, to a man, had put up a fierce resistance as they were boarded, swift with a sword and giving no quarter even in the grinning skeletal face of defeat.

But perhaps their greatest source of pride was their stalwart Captain, leading them with honor and courageousness. Shouting orders and clashing swords with a skill only surpassed by the most fearsome swordsman on the seas. Unfortunately for his crew, that swordsman was Billy.

Even now, brought to his knees before Billy’s sword, he lifted his chin and looked him in the eye, not a shadow of cowardice in his countenance.

The remaining members of his crew, held captive by Billy’s ragtag team of sneering degenerates, still turned their eye to their Captain, trusting him to lead them through perhaps onto death.

Billy lifted his clean-shaven chin with the tip of his sword, admiring the way the bruise on his cheek brought out his eyes, blood staining his lips like a harlot’s rouge. He was damn pretty, for a Beta.

“What say you, Captain Harrington? Do you surrender your ship and crew?”

Captain Harrington’s eyes narrowed, jaw firming as he held steady on his knees, refusing to lean away from Billy’s sword. It made something queer tighten low in Billy’s stomach to watch him hold strong.

“I request a parley.”

Billy leaned back, looking around at his crew with widened eyes before bursting into raucous laughter.

“A parley? Perhaps you are confused, pretty boy. I have you on your knees. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t slit the throats of every man in your command.”

Captain Harrington finally wavered, a flicker of trepidation and horror crossing his large brown eyes. The meticulously fastened gold braid on his chest rose and fell with a measured breath as he steeled himself, glaring so hard into Billy’s eyes that he felt the heat of it down his spine, licking flames into his belly.

“I have good reason, but I would speak with you privately. Captain to Captain.”

Billy traced the blunt edge of his sword along Harrington’s jaw musingly, admiring the elegant line.

“Privacy appeals, sweetheart, but conversation doesn’t. Say your piece before I lose my patience and you start losing more men.”

Harrington hesitated but a single heartbeat before lifting his hands, slowly and steadily to his cravat, tied high and tight about his neck in perfect military fashion.

One of his men let out a gasp behind him but Harrington never flinched, staring Billy down as he chose his words carefully, fingers loosening the knot at his neck.

“You are a seeker of treasure. I offer you a trade. I have in my possession something rare and valuable. I would relinquish this to you only in exchange for my men’s lives and their freedom.”

Billy whistled long and low, finding himself unable to look away from the motion of Harrington’s fingers against his throat.

“What could you possibly have to offer me, sailor, that I cannot simply take for myself at the end of a sword, just as I have taken every treasure that meets my roving eye?”

Harrington started to unwind his neckcloth, watching Billy expectantly. One of his crew cried out behind him, a scuffle breaking loose.

“No, Captain! Please, Steve, don’t do this!”

Harrington snapped his head to the side, voice rigid with command.

“Stand down, Henderson!”

Silence reigned as Harrington turned back to Billy, continuing the slow, careful removal of his cravat. Billy’s breath caught in his own throat as the pristine white cloth loosened and lowered, exposing a tantalizing hint of rosy flesh.

Harrington, Steve, watched him with something like resignation as Billy’s pulse jumped and thundered at the mere suggestion of the possibility. Foolish to hope, when it was surely impossible.

Steve took another, deeper breath, tugging the cloth further down to reveal the unmistakable edge of a mating patch, the skin there as delicate and sensitive as his quivering lips. Billy suddenly felt as though he were the one at the end of a sword.

“I offer you a willing Omega, to do with as you wish,” he dropped his eyes only for a moment as Henderson cried out in despair behind them, looking back up at Billy through thick dark lashes, “completely untouched.”

Billy’s sharp inhale brought with it the tiniest touch of sugar and spice, the unmistakable, irresistible scent of unmated Omega.

One breath and he was starving for more, thickening in his trousers and heart racing.

Steve faltered only slightly when the wave of Alpha arousal hit him in the face, swaying just a little on his knees as a beguiling flush rose in his cheeks.

Billy hardened his heart, determined not to fall into a trap set by a pretty face and empty promises. He dug the tip of his sword underneath Harrington’s chin, ignoring the shocked gasps of both his and Harrington’s crews.

“You would do this, knowing that these men whom you are so desperate to save will never follow you again? Even if, by some divine miracle, I were to let the lot of you go free, you could never return to Captaincy. All that is left for you is a court martial and being auctioned off to the highest bidder at Her Majesty’s command. You have revealed yourself for more than an Omega, you have revealed yourself for a fool.”

Steve kept his shoulders square, Billy now hyperaware of his slight frame underneath the shoulder padding of his uniform coat.

“That is my offer. Do you accept, Captain?”

Billy licked his lips, smirking as Steve followed the motion, cheeks flaming against his pale complexion. He leaned down to speak soft and dark, close enough to his beautiful face that he could feel the heat of his maiden blush.

“If you play me false, Omega-”

Steve bristled with affront, brow furrowing as he spat out a denial.

“I speak the truth!”

Billy examined him closely for any sign of prevarication, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“If I spread your legs to find a well-plowed field, I will hunt the seas for your beloved men and cut them down before your lovely eyes. You will barely live long enough to weep for their blighted souls.”

Steve met his steely gaze steadily and defiantly, the soft curve of his lips set in a mulish line that Billy wanted to tease apart with his tongue.

“I speak no falsehoods, Captain. Do you accept my offer?”

Billy used the end of his sword to hook into the loose coil of fabric around Steve’s neck, pulling it down to stare at his mating patch.

“Why should I not simply take you for myself, here on the filthy bloodstained deck before your men?”

Not a hint of fear crossed Harrington’s eyes as he lifted his chin, tilting his head to bare his throat enticingly.

“There is a marked difference in an Omega’s willing acceptance of an Alpha and that of one taken by force. You know this as well as I. Only a willing bond can take root. I am young and strong. My value as a mate far outweighs my value as a quick, dirty fuck, Captain.”

Billy was fully hard now, the flames of his desire only stoked by Harrington’s defiance. He couldn’t look away from the half exposed mating patch, muted plumes of Steve’s enticing scent teasing his nostrils.

He sheathed his sword, ignoring the gasps of Harrington’s crew as he instead cupped his jaw with his hand, letting his thumb skirt the edge of his mating mark until Steve trembled with a half-choked whine.

“I will have you, my treasure. Consider the worthless lives and freedom of these sniveling Beta dogs you once called your men to be my mating gift to you.”

Steve nodded once, studying Billy’s offered hand before accepting it with all the grace of a debutante, allowing his assistance to stand. He turned to look over his men, smiling in spite of his dire circumstances.

“It has been an honor to serve with all of you. You have comported yourselves in a manner befitting gentlemen and soldiers. I will miss you dearly,” he paused to take a shaky breath as a sailor with dark curly hair started openly weeping, straightening his posture like a rod of steel had been inserted down his back, “Lieutenant Byers, you have the bridge. Godspeed, gentlemen.”

He did not accept Billy’s assistance to scale the rope attaching Billy’s ship to the HMS Hawkins, shimmying down it effortlessly all on his own.

He stood stiffly at the rail with Billy at his back and watched his ship and crew sail away until they disappeared into the horizon.

Billy offered his elbow, waiting until Steve rested a reluctant hand atop his forearm before leading him to the Captain’s quarters.

“Allow me to escort you to your chambers, princess. Your bed awaits.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was impossible. Not to be believed. A nightmare from which he would surely wake.
> 
> His father brought in the most expensive and discreet physicians to cure him of his terrible condition, each one leaving the manor with heavy pockets and an earful of Alpha rage. 
> 
> Finally the truth could no longer be denied.
> 
> Steve Harrington was an Omega, and a bitter disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it looks like enough of you are climbing on board this trash for us to set sail. Rough seas ahead!

Steven Harrington was born into affluence, silver spoon at the ready. The pride and joy of his estimable parents, Lord and Lady Harrington. The only surviving offspring of many sad attempts.

His father had proudly raised him as his heir, the next in a long line of Alphas stretching back to William the Conqueror. Every Lord Harrington had been an Alpha and there was never a question of any aberration from that tradition.

It was utterly unthinkable.

Steve attended Eton like every Harrington before him, ruling the school as other boys naturally flocked to and followed him. A born leader, his father used to say. A strong Alpha in the making.

Until Christmas holiday the year Steve turned seventeen, when he had gone to bed hale and hearty and woken up with a fever and the devastating knowledge that he was a black mark upon the family name.

None of them had ever even considered the possibility. It was so improbable as to be laughable. An Omega? In this day and age?

They were practically extinct, the final remnants of a more primitive time.

Steve had never even met an Omega before. They weren’t permitted at Eton, of course. Or anyplace of any repute.

Omegas did not belong in an institute of learning.

Omegas belonged shackled to their commanding Alphas, spitting out children like broodmares and going mad with vulgar heats. Traded on the black market to slobbering ungoverned Alphas gone rut-wild for ridiculous sums.

They were obscene, an embarrassment. Not a topic of polite conversation.

Steve could never see himself joining their dubious ranks.

The final physician had no more cure than any other, but he was a clever man who offered a clever solution. In exchange for a solid portion of the family fortune, of course.

This physician possessed the formula for something he termed a suppressant, which, when taken in sufficient amounts, could be used to curtail any signs or symptoms of Steve’s condition.

There were side effects, but what was a dry mouth and night terrors in the face of ruination?

Steve would never pass for an Alpha, but a Beta, on the slender side due to a mysterious childhood illness? That could be arranged.

And arranged it was, carefully and meticulously. Until every day of Steve’s life was a balance of deception, walking a tightrope with his family name upon his shoulders.

A suitable marriage was arranged, a nice, quiet Beta girl who would never think to question Steve’s objections to nudity or the particular way he must conduct their marriage bed.

He had been coached in strategies to hide every marker, even in flagrante, in expectation of his impending nuptials.

There had been no lovers, of course. Steve had to be careful in ways other boys did not, ensuring that his virtue remain entirely intact as a mere side effect of his extreme caution.

The sea was his true mistress, anyway. The freedom and untamed wildness of it appealed to a boy dragging the weight of lies and expectations like a ball and chain.

His father was pleased with his decision to purchase a commission. An officer of the Royal Navy was a good position for an Alpha or even a very determined Beta. It was an excellent cover.

It also meant that Lord Harrington wouldn’t have to look at his only son everyday with disgust in his eyes.

A victory all around, as far as Steve was concerned.

He took to the sea like a fish, men falling over themselves to obey his command as boys had ever done in school. A natural born leader.

Steve rose in rank through hard work and unflinching courage in the face of danger. All to receive a captaincy the year before his wedding date.

He experienced the joy of command for a mere six months before his world came crashing down beneath a filthy pirate’s flag.

Before he was reduced to the most shameful part of himself, traded like a quarter of beef at the butcher’s table to a slavering beast of a man.

It was worth it.

Worth the shame and humiliation. Worth every bleak day and painful night ahead of him. Worth the grief to his family for the son they wished for and had never truly had.

Against all odds, Steve had managed to save his men. Henderson, his loyal batman and dearest friend, would draw breath tomorrow because of Steve’s sacrifice.

It was worth it.

This was what he told himself as he faced the lone bed in the Captain’s quarters, sporting an expensive and undoubtedly stolen feather mattress atop a wooden frame bolted to the floor.

Captain “Billy the Bold” Hargrove had sheathed his sword, and yet Steve still felt the force of it against his throat as he stared at the bed.

He drew a fortifying breath, finishing the task of unwinding his carefully constructed neckcloth. It was a special weave of silk designed to cover his mating patch and block out every lingering trace of his scent.

He folded it neatly in his hands, sliding it into the pocket of his coat.

Billy circled him like a lion stalking prey, eyes fixed on Steve’s exposed neck.

If Steve had seen those eyes at a country ball, he would have considered them beautiful, the tumultuous hue of the sea shining in their depths.

As it was, he could only describe them as hungry.

Shards of sea glass aimed directly at Steve’s throat.

“Will you permit my touch, Omega?”

Steve flinched at the hateful title, biting the inside of his cheek as he nodded reluctantly.

Billy approached slowly, on silent feet like his bootheels floated above the floorboards.

Steve held very still, concentrating on his breathing as Billy moved a strand of hair that had fallen from his queue, calloused fingers brushing feather-light over the center of his patch.

No one had ever touched Steve there before, he wasn’t prepared. Which was the only reason he let out a sharp gasp as an electric spark shot across his skin at the contact, lighting him up inside.

Billy’s voice was slow with wonder, fingers rubbing together like he had been the one receiving a shock.

“Completely untouched.”

Steve jerked away, opening the frogged clasps of his uniform coat in quick, decisive movements. Billy stood in place, bloodstained hand upon the hilt of his sword as he watched avidly.

Steve crossed to drape his coat over the back of the single chair, smoothing the epaulets before taking a deep breath and unlacing his cuffs and shirtfront.

He folded his shirt at precise angles, placing it upon the desk bolted to the floor beside the chair. The chair stood freely and he was able to pull it out in order to sit and remove his boots, polish scuffed from the skirmish with Hargrove’s band of ruffians and fiends.

He looked up at the fiend in question as his hands went to the fall of his trousers.

“Am I to be an exhibition, on crude display for you while you maintain both clothing and dignity?”

Billy’s tongue darted out of his mouth to trace the swell of his lower lip, eyes roving over Steve’s skin as though trying to connect his many scattered beauty marks into a cohesive design.

“What if you were? What better exhibition could there be than such a rare and exquisite work of art? I do enjoy looking upon my treasure. Especially one so eager to be put on display that he unveils himself without prompting.”

Steve’s hands froze on the second button of his trouser placket, looking across the room at Billy with wide eyes. Billy’s lips spread in a lurid grin as he looked pointedly down at Steve’s state of dishabille.

Steve stood, posture at parade rest even as his hands continued their work, gazing defiantly into Billy’s smirking face.

“If it is all the same to you, Captain, I would prefer to get this over with as quickly as possible. I have no wish to draw things out and I am loath to remain in your debt.”

Billy walked to the washstand, pouring water into the basin with a beautifully gilded porcelain pitcher. Also undoubtedly stolen.

He washed the blood from his hands, wetting a cloth to wipe his face and neck clean as he regarded Steve.

“And what if it isn’t?”

If there was something that galled Steven Harrington above all else, it was being made to feel stupid. His own father was a master of the art.

He narrowed his eyes at Billy, sniffing disdainfully and immediately regretting the action as the thick scent of Alpha sweat coated his nostrils, Billy lifting his loose shirt to swipe beneath his arms with the cloth.

“Speak plainly, or I shan’t be in the least inclined to listen to you.”

Billy nodded, dropping the cloth and emptying the basin before filling it again and dipping in a fresh cloth. He wrung it out over the clear water before turning to approach Steve as slowly and silently as he had entered the room.

“What if it is, in point of fact, not all the same to me?”

It had not occurred to Steve that the infamous Billy Hargrove would even hesitate to ravish him. He was frankly surprised not to have been put on his back already, heels to the ceiling.

They had thus far spent more time engaged in conversation than he could have ever imagined.

He dropped his hands, trouser placket hanging open to one side to expose the linen of his small clothes.

His chin lifted, shoulders squaring as he faced this challenge as head-on as he would any other. He had battled men at the point of a sword and the end of a cannon. What was one Alpha to that?

“How would you have me, then, Captain? I will defer to your experience in the area. For now.”

Billy laughed under his breath, thumbing at his mouth with a clean hand, the damp cloth balled in the opposite fist.

“Finish disrobing, and sit on the bed. I will return shortly. None will dare bother you in my absence, do not fret.”

Steve bit back a vicious retort by the skin of his teeth, waiting for the door to shut behind Billy before jerking off his trousers and untying his small clothes, folding them both upon the chair before carefully unrolling his stockings and stowing them along with his garters. He pulled the red ribbon from his hair, letting it fall about his shoulders as he tucked the ribbon neatly away.

He sat, naked and chilled, upon Billy’s burgundy damask counterpane, unable to appreciate the luxurious give of the featherbed under the weight of his apprehension.

This was nothing.

His rising sense of dread was pointless. The mortification of his flesh would have no impact upon his mind and spirit. Steve would accept Billy into his body as agreed upon, allow him the illusion of dominance.

Any amount of pain and humiliation was worth the price of setting his friends and fellow sailors free.

Steve was used to the humiliation of being what he was, anyway. What further harm could a second, more brutal serving of the same disgrace do?

This was the lot of the Omega, and Steve was fortunate to have escaped it for longer than most.

Billy returned, damp cloth still in hand and something made of snowy white linen draped over his shoulder.

The damp cloth hit Steve in the chest with an ignoble splat.

“Clean yourself.”

Billy knocked the carefully folded pile of Steve’s uniform to the floor, pulling out the chair and propping his boots upon the desk, slouching in his seat as his eyes drank in Steve’s unclothed form as greedily as a man long at sea drinks fresh water.

Steve started with his face, trailing the cloth down his neck to remove the dust and blood of battle.

Sharp and smoky Alpha scent spiked as he brushed the cloth over his mating patch, giving it a perfunctory swipe before cleaning his hands and arms, wiping the sweat from his skin in efficient motions as non erotically as he could manage.

Judging by the level of Billy’s scent and the state of his pupils, it was not a success.

He folded the cloth, setting it upon the shelf beside the bed before folding his hands on his lap and waiting for further instruction.

Billy scooped up one of Steve’s stockings from the floor, holding the open end to his face with an exaggerated inhale.

Steve barely suppressed a shudder of disgust, remaining motionless upon the bed.

Billy dropped the stocking and stood to walk over to the bed, plopping down beside Steve with no sign of embarrassment.

He tugged the draped linen from his shoulder, dropping it in Steve’s naked lap.

“Here, put this on before you catch a chill.”

Steve held out the garment, finding it to be a nightshirt richly trimmed in lace in the Parisian style specifically designed for male Omegas.

It was beautiful material, an absolutely lovely piece.

Steve hated it instantly.

He pulled it on over his head, lacing up the front without looking at Billy.

With a harsh exhale and a gathering of his courage, he pivoted on the bed, laying his head on the pillow and planting the soles of his feet upon the mattress, knees unmistakably open.

Billy’s eyes went directly between his legs, tongue making a second, more extended appearance before he looked back up into Steve’s face.

“Get under the covers.”

Steve complied immediately, hatefully grateful for the illusion of concealment. He began to hope that perhaps Billy might douse the lantern as well.

Like most hope, it was a foolish one, dashed to smithereens upon the rocks as Billy stretched out beside him atop the counterpane, boots still on like an absolute heathen.

Billy’s hand gently traced the edge of lace at the hollow of Steve’s throat while Steve stared resolutely at the ceiling.

“You’re afraid of me. That’s good. It shows you are not an idiot.”

Steve sneered at the word afraid, glaring at Billy’s contemplative face.

“I fear no Alpha, Hargrove.”

Billy’s lips quirked at the corners, eyes dancing like waves near the shoreline.

“You’re a terrible liar. It’s a good thing you are so very, very pretty. My pretty boy.”

Steve turned back to the ceiling, directing his rage at the wooden boards above them as Billy continued on in that soft, deep voice.

“Get some rest, I will ensure that none disturb you until dawn.”

His boots hit the floor with a thud, taking long strides to the door before slipping out onto the deck without another word.

Steve’s relief was as shameful as it was immediate and all-encompassing.

He had been granted an extension on his dignity, however brief.

It was no great task to allow his exhaustion to pull him under into the sweet oblivion of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is going to be somewhat of a slow burn for an ABO trashy bodice-ripper. I can promise smut within the first five chapters, at least. I can only stretch Billy’s piratical patience so far.
> 
> How do we feel about pirate puns? Yay or nay? Arrrr or Narrrr?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy had always longed for a mate, at first only in the throes of rut, but as he grew older he began to feel the absence of something in his life more and more.
> 
> Captain Steve Harrington, brave and loyal sailor and well-concealed Omega was made in exactly the shape of that absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrrr y’all ready for more?

Billy tossed back a tankard of rum, swiping it from one of his jeering men and letting the excess run down his cheeks before wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

He dropped the heavy vessel onto the long wooden table, climbing onto the surface and kicking plates and bowls out of his way to loud objections.

“Listen up, and listen well, you scurvy dogs! I have taken an Omega, having searched the world over for such a treasure. Captain Harrington is to be treated with all of the respect due to my mate, from courtship to consummation and beyond. Any who object may make themselves known to the end of my sword!”

The table shook beneath him as his crew beat their fists and tankards upon it in rousing celebration.

Billy jumped down, amiably receiving claps on the back and cheers for his good fortune.

The only member of the crew who did not join in the celebration was his first mate.

Max stood off to the side, arms crossed over her bandolier slung chest, glowering at Billy from under pale eyebrows.

He swiped another tankard and pressed it against her arm until she was obliged to take it with a sneer.

“What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing, Billy? Do you truly believe that you can keep an Omega mate here, at sea? Aren’t they all dainty and delicate and boring as fuck? I won’t have some whining little prince moping about my deck.”

Billy waited until she lifted her drink before knocking his hand against it so that it clicked painfully against her teeth, laughing and ducking her fist.

“He’s a Naval officer. You witnessed his swordsmanship and extraordinary bravery in battle firsthand. Certainly no wilting flower, he. So, tell me true. To what do you actually object?”

She sucked on her sore lip, shoving the tankard back at Billy.

“I object to watching my brother being led around by his knot like a rut-wild simpleton.”

Billy couldn’t contain his leering grin at the mere suggestion of the lovely Steve Harrington coming anywhere near his knot. Max pretended to gag before spearing him with sharp eyes.

“I’m serious, Billy. The company you keep in your quarters is your own business, but when he’s on my deck, I want him kept on a tight leash, not riling up the crew.”

She shoulder checked him as she strode past, stealing a bowl of stew from a sailor who didn’t even shout in objection once he saw who dared.

Billy scarfed down a bowl of his own, snagging an apple from the barrel and a flagon of mead before heading back to his quarters, night shift pilot having taken the wheel.

He hesitated at his door, opening it slowly to find the lantern doused and all quiet beneath the creak and sway of the ship.

It was a fortunate thing, for a sailor to be an Alpha, his enhanced night vision helped immensely in transitioning between above and below deck.

He could easily make out Steve’s form beneath the blankets, thick soft hair spread across a feather pillow.

Billy would bring him a chest of silk sheets as soon as he was able. Nothing less deserved the touch of that perfect skin.

He had been well pleased, at first, when his Omega began stripping for him without prompting, allowing Billy to take in the full stunning beauty of his treasure. His body had been roused, heart pumping and knot throbbing until the acrid scent of Steve’s distress had permeated the air.

Billy shut the door behind him, throwing the latch with a click.

His mate was rife with virgin fear, and Billy would need to tread lightly, with patience and care.

Neither of those things had ever been Billy’s forte, but for his mate, he would make any sacrifice.

He wanted a true bond, nothing less would suffice. He was going to have to earn it.

He placed the apple and cup down on the shelf built into the wall beside Steve. His hand drifted over to lift a lock of his hair from the pillow, unable to resist the urge to touch, just a little, as gently as he may.

Gentle was not his forte, either.

Truth told, Billy had never deflowered a maiden before, not even in his wayward youth. He had always gravitated toward older and wiser men and women. And when he and Max had taken the ship, they had enforced strict rules against taking bed partners by force even while pillaging, those who objected had walked the plank at the tip of Max’s sword.

He considered them to be sailors of honor, for all that they were pirates.

He had certainly seen worse from so-called upstanding British soldiers stationed in tropical isles.

Captain Harrington’s uniform had once again been neatly folded and stashed beneath the shelf, chair pushed tidily under the desk. Billy’s quarters could use the soft touch of an Omega, he knew he lived less slovenly than many a bachelor, but none could term him tidy.

He searched himself for any twinge of discomfort from the sudden loss of his freedom and found nothing but soaring, triumphant joy.

Billy had always longed for a mate, at first only in the throes of rut, but as he grew older he began to feel the absence of something in his life more and more.

Captain Steve Harrington, brave and loyal sailor and well-concealed Omega was made in exactly the shape of that absence.

Billy pushed his cuffed leather boots down his thigh and over his knee before pulling them off and stretching his toes.

His right stocking had a hole through which his big toe jutted out. He wondered if Steve had any skill with a needle, as most Omegas did.

Billy got the distinct impression that Steve was not going to be like most Omegas. The idea excited him, heart hammering with the anticipation of Steve pushing back at Billy rather than cowering beneath his authority.

He had always enjoyed a challenge.

Steve woke with a soft gasping sound that did nothing for Billy’s resolve to be patient as Billy set his belt and cutlass down atop the desk, dropping his trousers and stockings to a pile on the floor.

Steve’s eyes shone in the dark, wide with dread.

Billy’s hands froze at the long hem of his ivory shirt as a fresh wave of Omega distress seared his nostrils, prompting a growl at the perceived threat to his mate.

Steve’s distress only increased and the growl tapered off at the displeasing realization that Billy was the threat.

He preferred to sleep in the nude, since he had his own quarters, so here was his first sacrifice for his mate.

He left his shirt on, hem long enough to cover his nonexistent modesty as he approached the bed, Steve stiffening when he lifted the covers and climbed in beside him.

Billy sat up against the carved wooden headboard, pressing the back of his hand against Steve’s arm briefly. His mate was trembling.

“You must be hungry. I’ve brought you something to eat and drink. You have but to ask for more and I will provide it.”

Nerves pricked at his stomach as he waited for Steve to acknowledge his offer.

Steve sat up, taking care not to let their bodies touch even the slightest bit when he reached for the apple, taking a bite with a crunch which satisfied something deep in Billy that was just now starting to make itself known, demanding that he provide for his mate. Keep his belly full, keep him safe and warm.

He feigned relaxation, sliding down the covers to sprawl across the bed.

“I spoke with my crew. You are my mate and will be treated with respect. You have nothing to fear aboard my ship.”

Steve turned the apple over in his hands, looking down at it even though Billy knew his night vision was only slightly better than that of a Beta.

“I thank you for that. But I am not yet your mate. Will you be rectifying that tonight?”

The short distance between them on the bed crackled with tension Billy could have run through with his sword.

He watched Steve take another small bite, turning on his side with his head pillowed on his bent arm.

“You are my mate. Promised to me, by your own words. How we choose to consummate our bond is our own business.”

Steve stopped eating, holding the apple in his lap as he refused to look at Billy, staring out into the dark of their chambers instead.

“And how do you choose, Captain?”

Billy reached out and covered Steve’s hand around the apple, feeling him try to jerk away before forcing himself to relax. Billy had a long, frustrating road ahead of him. Something told him that Steve was worth it.

“I would have you willing.”

Steve took a deep breath, fingers clenching the apple tightly under Billy’s hand.

“I am willing. You may take me as you wish, as was the price we agreed upon. I will not refuse you.”

Billy moved his hand to circle Steve’s wrist lightly, feeling his racing pulse.

“You deserve to be courted, petted and coaxed until you are as eager for our bond as I.”

Steve jerked his wrist away, head whipping around to glare vaguely in Billy’s direction.

“You boarded my ship and threatened to slaughter my men. You tore from me everything that once made my life bearable in spite of my designation. I will never come drooling after you like some Omega bitch. You will have my cooperation and nothing more.”

Billy could hear his teeth grinding as he tried to tamp down his swell of rage, throwing off the sheets to sit opposite Steve, who went rigid at the movement.

“A willing Omega, to do with as I wish. Your words, not mine, sweetheart.”

Steve placed the half eaten apple back on the shelf, beginning to tug his nightshirt up over his pale belly, still covered to the waist by the bedspread.

His voice was tight with anger, consonants clipped beneath the swath of linen.

“And so you shall have, Captain Hargrove. I intend to keep my end of the bargain.”

Billy grabbed a handful of his nightshirt, knuckles dragging over Steve’s silken skin as he yanked it back down.

“As I wish, you said. And I wish to court my mate. I wish to win your affection and regard. I wish to have all of you as truly as I will have your body. I wish for you to yearn for me,” Billy pulled him closer by the handful of his shirt, Steve’s breath catching as Billy dropped to a whisper, “I wish to have you begging on your knees for my knot.”

The flat of Steve’s palm connecting with Billy’s cheek was so loud that it seemed to echo in the quiet of their quarters.

Billy’s mind went blank, vision flashing white with fury until he shook away the fog to find Steve flat on his back beneath him, mating patch held firmly between his teeth.

Steve went limp, the harsh breath raising his thin chest and fluttering his cherry lips his only movement.

Billy relaxed his jaw, muscles protesting as he pulled away. Steve stayed exactly where he had been placed, eyes rolling to watch Billy with fear in their depths.

The room stank of it.

This was what bollocking up everything from the beginning looked like. Billy could have slapped himself if Steve hadn’t done it for him.

He cleared his throat, voice filled with gravel as he fought down surges of mindless, idiotic hormones urging him to pin and bite and mount his mate.

“I should not have spoken so coarsely to you. You are gently born, and I would do well to remember that. You have my apologies, pretty boy.”

Steve’s brow knit with confusion, but he seemed to come back to himself, pulling into a tight ball at the far end of the mattress.

He said nothing, eyes still wide and watchful in the dark.

Billy sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he slumped down onto the bed, tossing a handful of the sheets over his hips in deference to his mate’s elevated sensibilities.

“Sleep easy, princess. I won’t touch you again tonight.”

Steve didn’t shut his eyes or relax a single muscle, obviously holding no faith in Billy’s word.

Yet.

Well, Billy had thought that he wanted a challenge.

Then again, Captain Billy Hargrove was an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not saying this entire fic is an excuse to have Billy call his friends “scurvy dogs” but it also, like, isn’t definitely not an excuse for that. 
> 
> Also, who is loving salty pirate Max? 🏴☠️


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was nothing Billy could offer to entice Steve from his quarters over the next five days.
> 
> Even the threat of withholding meals had no effect on the stubborn little barnacle.
> 
> Although, Billy’s exasperated threat only lasted until the very second he heard the faint rumble of Steve’s empty belly, sending him scrambling for a tray laden with every vittle he could get his grubby hands on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy: LAND HO!!!  
> Steve: BITCH, WHO YOU CALLIN’...!?

There was nothing Billy could offer to entice Steve from his quarters over the next five days.

Even the threat of withholding meals had no effect on the stubborn little barnacle.

Although, Billy’s exasperated threat only lasted until the very second he heard the faint rumble of Steve’s empty belly, sending him scrambling for a tray laden with every vittle he could get his grubby hands on.

Chef was none too pleased with his Captain pilfering an entire lime tart.

Billy didn’t mind ducking his wooden spoon for the next few weeks. It was well worth the sight of his mate licking sweet sticky juice from his elegant fingers, chasing a drop all the way down the slender line of his wrist.

Billy’s reaction was not as subtle as he could have hoped, Steve taking a discreet sniff and then flaming red all the way to his tightly wrapped cravat.

Hateful thing, covering up that gorgeous throat.

Even muted by layers of silk, Steve’s natural scent was growing stronger by the day. He went from smelling like a particularly lovely Beta to the unmistakable sweetness of unmated Omega seemingly overnight.

It was driving Billy mad, permeating his chambers and soaking into his sheets. He couldn’t walk into his own quarters without raising the mizzenmast.

He needed Steve to take a turn about the deck just to give him a chance to air out the room.

At this rate, he was going to wake up mounting his pillow like a youth in first rut.

They woke every morning tangled together, Steve soft and sweet until the moment he blinked open his big, pretty eyes. As soon as he caught sight of Billy he went stiff as a board and practically levitated to the opposite side of the bed.

Billy was living for the blissful seconds he woke before his mate, savoring the feel of him sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Even though Steve’s continued standoffishness was a disappointment, Billy felt a deep and abiding satisfaction in the slow but steady mingling of their scents, bedsheets saturated with the perfect blend of them together.

If Steve ever left the room, Billy was going to roll in it like a pig in mud.

His crew teased him for spending his free time holed up with his mate, but they didn’t know that most of that time was spent pretending to pore over maps and figures while watching Steve read out of the corner of his eye.

Any attempt at conversation was summarily shut down before Billy could even start, his daily gifts rejected with disdain.

At least Steve had accepted his gift of several books Billy had tucked away in his quarters for the long lonely nights at sea.

His mate had a particular love of Shakespeare. Billy was ready to rob the next library at port for him.

Perhaps the most difficult part of their rocky courtship was Steve’s nightly insistence that Billy secure their bond and allow him to pay his debt in full.

It was enough to make Billy’s hands shake, as Steve carefully unwound his cravat, tipping his head to the side to let the soft lantern light hit his vulnerable throat, patch beckoning.

Billy could feel his heartbeat in his knot.

He balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palm as he reminded himself of his purpose that evening, striding over to one of his heavy chests to reveal his secret weapon.

Steve sat on the bed, watching him warily as Billy approached with a beautifully inlaid wooden box held between his hands.

“What is this? I’ve told you I have no use for your ill-gotten gains. I insist that you simply bed me and be done with it. Enough with this infernal courting. There is no point pretending that I am anything more to you than a convenient bed warmer when we both know the truth.”

Steve had gotten bolder in his speech, the further they sailed from his beloved ship. It didn’t appear that he thought he had anything else to lose.

Billy set the box upon the mattress in front of Steve, taking a seat opposite to lean back against the richly carved footboard.

He unlatched the box to fold it open, revealing the pieces concealed within.

Steve’s face lit up, a fleeting smile skipping across his lips and leaving Billy breathless.

“Why, it’s a chess board. How cleverly constructed!”

Billy knew he looked an idiot, grinning like a boy, but the pleasure that suffused his chest at Steve’s delight in the gift was so pure and so sweet that he was helpless in the face of it.

“Do you play, Captain Harrington?”

The last remnants of Steve’s smile washed away at the sound of his lost title on Billy’s lips. He reached down to pick up a knight, tracing the intricately rendered contours with the tip of his finger.

“I did, once. Quite well, actually. That time is past me, now. It is not considered a suitable game for Omegas.”

He set the piece back into the box with a click of stone against wood, regal shoulders slumping with resignation.

Billy picked up the queen, rubbing his broad thumb over the familiar edges of his favorite piece.

“She was an Omega, you know. Originally. And yet the queen is the most powerful piece on the board.”

He had Steve’s rapt attention, now. Brown eyes fixed on Billy’s face, mouth dropping open with astonishment as he straightened up on the bed,

“Surely you jest. I’ve never heard such an outlandish thing.”

Billy started setting up the board, taking comfort in the familiarity of the rhythm, aware of Steve watching him avidly, hungrily.

“I am all seriousness, my treasure. Omegas have not always been as sinfully restricted as they are today. And you will find, as we sail to the furthest edges of the sea together, that the world is a much broader place than the narrow confines of mother England.”

He gave Steve the white, weighing the queen in his hand before pressing it to Steve’s palm, the drag of his skin against Billy’s sending a thrill to the very core of him like a beam of sunlight piercing dark waters.

“In some places, Omegas are allowed the same freedoms as any designation.They work and play and fight alongside Alphas and Betas alike.”

Steve’s fingers clenched around the queen so tightly his knuckles paled, mouth drawing down into a hard line as he glared at Billy.

“That’s preposterous. Do not attempt to make me a figure of fun with your ridiculous lies.”

He set the queen down harshly enough that all the pieces rattled in place. There was a pain in his eyes that ran through him so deeply and so fiercely that it must have ached for Billy to brush against in conversation.

He would have to be more careful in future.

Billy stroked a finger over his carefully groomed mustache as he considered the board.

“You will see soon enough,” he moved one of his pawns and looked up with an expectant grin, “your move, sweetheart.“

Steve treated their mating bed like an unpleasant but inevitable duty, living everyday within the confines of their quarters in a state of stoic, grief-stricken blankness.

Billy had never before seen the pull of temptation on his lovely face.

It was breathtaking.

Billy couldn’t breathe for watching him.

Steve chewed on his lip as he looked longingly down at the board, letting the fullness of his lower lip pop from his teeth with a wet sound that hit Billy right between the legs.

He grunted, shifting on the bed and doing nothing to hide his arousal. There was no point, the room was already thick with it.

Steve’s nostrils flared, cheeks glowing pink but otherwise ignoring Billy as he picked up a pawn and made his move.

He looked up at Billy through his lashes, mating patch flushing dark and his own sweet scent deepening in response to Billy’s. That smile played at his lips, warming something in Billy’s chest that he hadn’t even realized was growing cold.

“I will give you fair warning, Captain. I am something of a dab hand at Chess. Will you mind terribly, being bested by an Omega?”

Billy made his move without looking away from Steve’s face, the lay of the board as familiar as the deck of his ship.

“And I in turn give you fair warning, pretty boy. I am something of a cheat. Let’s see if you can catch me in the act.”

Their game turned into a nightly routine, Billy hurrying to their chambers to find Steve waiting eagerly with the board at the ready.

The sight of his mate eager for him made Billy lose his head, all thoughts of winning dissolved.

Steve won, the first time, in no small part due to Billy’s distraction. He learned quickly that the more disheveled the state of his clothing, the worse Billy played.

One night Billy returned to find his mate waiting in bed with nothing but sheets wrapped around his hips, clothing hung to dry.

“Washing day,” Steve had dismissed with a shrug.

Billy had gotten so hard so fast that he went light headed, grabbing onto the footboard for support.

He lost summarily, posing so little a challenge that Steve never tried it again, much to Billy’s dismay.

To Steve’s own dismay and building consternation, Billy won as often as he lost, Steve scouring the board with a frown as he tried to determine just how Billy was doing it.

“Are you a filthy cheat, Captain Hargrove?”

Steve was getting desperate enough that he loosened the laces on his shirt, fanning the material as though overwarm, but in truth doing little more than sending his scent wafting Billy’s way. The cheat.

Billy could not find it in himself to mind, lips curling in a smile as he twirled one of his long curls idly around his finger, looking down at the board and contemplating his next move.

“No more so than you, my devious little minx.”

Steve gasped in feigned affront, pressing a hand to his chest with his mouth in an exaggerated O, neck angled to cleverly reveal his patch.

“I can’t begin to imagine what you could mean by that.”

Flirting.

His mate was flirting with him.

Billy could have flown to the moon.

He spread his knees further apart, trying in vain to find ease in trousers strained to capacity by his excitement.

Steve’s eyes flicked down to his trouser front before looking resolutely down at the board, face flushed.

His hands fisted in the bedsheets, drawing in a fortifying breath before squaring his shoulders and meeting Billy’s eyes. His beautiful mouth hardened into a forbidding line.

“It would seem your latest ploy has been effective. You have breached my defenses and I am all the more vulnerable for having accepted the illusion of your perceived kindness. Indeed, Captain Hargrove, you have an excellent hand at chess.”

Billy’s hand froze on the board, Knight clenched in his fist as his brows drew down in consternation.

“There is no illusion, pretty boy. I am merely a sailor enjoying the company of his lovely Omega, pursuing a shared interest.”

He dropped his piece to the board, capturing Steve’s queen.

Steve studied the piece in his hand, the white marble stark against Billy’s weather-beaten skin.

“Let us dispense with pretense, Captain. You are not my friend, you are my conqueror. To the victor go the spoils. So why delay my despoiling? To what end? I try and try but I cannot see the board you are playing.”

Anger rose to the surface, the shattered mast of the shipwreck inside him breaking through in a crashing wave.

Billy’s eyes flashed, teeth bared as he lost control, flinging the board from the bed to crash against the floor, stone pieces rolling all over.

“Is this more to your liking, princess? You would have me act the Alpha brute so that you may tell yourself you do not want me? So that you can deny what is growing between us?”

Steve didn’t flinch, holding his ground on the bed with his unlaced shirt falling from his shoulder, calling to Billy’s teeth to rend it in two.

He wanted to rip his clothes from his lithesome body, he wanted to spit and snarl and pin his mate to the mattress, rutting until he left a permanent impression in Billy’s bed.

A low growl resonated in his chest, heartbeat loud in his ears. A thin note of sour fear infiltrated Steve’s sweet scent but he gave no indication of it, eyes raking over Billy with cool, detached disdain.

“The only thing growing between us is my contempt for you.”

Billy lunged forward, snapping his teeth an inch from Steve’s throat, watching in satisfaction as he yelped and fell back, scrambling away to press against the headboard.

He smelled like prey.

Billy wrapped his hand around Steve’s ankle, absorbing the fine trembling of his body that he was fighting with a firm jaw and clenched fists.

He rubbed his thumb in a circle around the bony protrusion of his ankle, voice rough from the growling and the surge of Alpha rage he was holding back by a thread.

“Careful what you wish for, princess.”

He snagged his cutlass from the table and slammed the door behind him, snapping at his men when they approached until he was left alone with his tankard.

The chess board had been tidied from the floor when he returned, neatly set upon the table. A thin crack ran through one side of the encasement.

Steve lay curled tightly at the furthest edge of the mattress, eyes determinedly shut while Billy staggered and bumped around the room removing his boots.

Billy fell on the bed, burying his face in his pillow to chase the combined scent of them.

A dark, niggling feeling in his gut warned him that he had lost much more than a game of chess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut next chapter! I know y’all clicked on this ABO trash fic and were like, where’s the smut??? 
> 
> Listen, I don’t play chess, so creative liberties were taken I am sure. Sorry not sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy was having the best dream. 
> 
> His mate was warm and writhing atop his body, all soft cries and eager hands. 
> 
> Billy opened his eyes to find the dream had not faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re looking for smut, here it is!

Billy was having the best dream.

His mate was warm and writhing atop his body, all soft cries and eager hands.

Billy opened his eyes to find the dream had not faded away.

Steve had climbed on top of him in the dark of their chambers, straddling his hips as he shoved Billy’s shirt up to expose the rigid length of his cock, whimpering quietly as he held it with shaking hands, lining him up with his entrance.

His skin there was fever hot and soft as silk and.

And dry as bone.

Billy tensed as Steve bore down, trying to force his body to accept something it had never been prepared for. His nightshirt hung down over them, pooling around his straining thighs as Billy clamped his hands on his hips and lifted him away.

Steve cried out in protest and Billy sat up to see him better in the low light afforded by the porthole.

His cheeks were wet with tears.

He fought against Billy’s restraining hands, shoving them away and beating at his chest with his fists until Billy was forced to either pin him or give in and fight back.

His Omega was fierce and strong, and Billy was likely to receive a bloodied nose if he forgot it.

“Woah. Sweetheart. What in the hell are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Steve went limp beneath him, snarling through his tears.

“I just want to get it over with. I cannot live with this sword of Damocles dangling above my head another day. I would sooner cast myself into the sea!”

Billy released him to roll onto his back, scrubbing his face with his hands and taking deep breaths as certain portions of his anatomy cursed him for a fool.

“You are not yet ready for me. You are mine in all but deed, let this be enough for now.”

Steve wiped viciously at his cheeks with his sleeve, turning to watch Billy with shining eyes.

“The weight of my debt is crushing me. Why will you not allow me to pay it? Does it please you to see me so tormented?”

He was beautiful in the moonlight, eyes magnified by his tears. Billy had once seen a mountain of gold and jewels in a city vault and the sheen of it dulled in comparison.

He rolled to his side to face his mate, pulling the sheets up over his hips to hide the keen interest his body refused to relinquish.

“It would please me to please you. So, if you insist, I will accept repayment.”

Steve firmed his jaw with resolve, steeling himself for something he obviously thought was going to be extremely unpleasant. Billy had watched men walk the plank with the same expression.

Billy smoothed his hand across that jaw, thumb rolling away some of the tension vibrating beneath his skin.

“In installments.”

Steve knocked his hand away, eyes as wild as the hair that lay scattered loose across his pillow.

“Speak plainly, damn you!”

Billy’s heart thudded in his chest as he brought his hand back up to cup the base of his mate’s delicate skull, his thick, soft hair flowing between his fingers.

“Have you ever been kissed? Tell me true.”

Steve frowned, his hands bunching the material of his nightshirt across his belly as he rolled to face Billy properly. His eyes shone prettily under offended eyebrows.

“No, never. I fail to see how this is relevant to paying my debt.”

The fire that those words started in Billy burned too hot and too quickly for him to contain the rumble rising in his chest, flooding the room with possessive Alpha satisfaction. He could see Steve’s eyes darkening in response, pupil bleeding outward under the flood of pheromones in the air.

He shifted closer, pulling Steve to him with the hand behind his head.

“Pretty boy like you, that’s hard to believe. The entire Navy must be populated by fools.”

The scent of his mate bloomed sweet between them as Billy edged closer and closer, Steve’s uneven breath hitting his face in warm puffs when he shook his head.

“I could not afford such dalliance. It would have ruined me.”

Billy nodded, brushing their noses together softly, Steve inhaling sharply at the contact.

“Quite right. Far better to have waited for me to ruin you instead.”

Whatever Steve had intended to say in response was lost under the press of Billy’s lips, soft and warm and sure.

He held them there for a moment, allowing Steve to grow accustomed before moving, sliding his lips across Steve’s, catching his lower lip between each of Billy’s, giving the softest of tugs.

He had thought his mate’s scent to have bloomed before, but now it positively blossomed, sweetening the air and quickening Billy’s blood.

He rolled Steve to his back, laying alongside him but being careful to hold his hips back lest he frighten him off with the undeniable evidence of Billy’s desire.

Steve’s hands still clutched his nightshirt in a white-knuckled grip like he was trying to hold himself together.

The thin white fabric rode halfway up his thighs, doing little to conceal Steve’s own evidence tenting the material and sending a shock of desperate arousal down Billy’s spine. A small damp patch started soaking through and Billy took a deep, heady breath as he realized that his mate was getting wet for him, all over, barely concealed by his linen nightshirt.

He brought their lips back together, thrilling as Steve lifted his chin to meet him halfway, lips barely parting on a soft gasp of pleasure.

It was enough, for Billy.

Enough to let him inside, tongue darting out to trace the open seam of Steve’s lips, pressing past the gates to get a taste. And once Billy was inside, well, that usually meant that the fighting was over. He had scaled the walls of Steve’s fortress and found his treasure waiting.

Ripe for the taking.

The rush of triumph was almost as sweet as the weight of Steve’s hands settling tentatively on Billy’s shoulders, warm through the thin linen of his shirt.

Billy licked into his mouth, absorbing Steve’s shocked gasp when he brushed their tongues together.

Steve’s tongue ventured out, pink and unsure, whispering across Billy’s lower lip and Billy was aching like it had been the well-practiced move of a talented courtesan.

He captured the tip of that tongue, sucking greedily. Steve cried out, hips jerking with the heavy scent of slick saturating the air, coating Billy’s lungs and filling his veins with fire.

Billy tugged him closer, until their bent knees rested together on the bed.

“Tell me, pretty boy, how do you like to be touched?”

Billy had only been with one female Omega before, his other partners had all been Betas. He had once heard a rumor that male Omegas didn’t like direct stimulation on their cocks, but he had no way of knowing if it was a crock of shit or held a kernel of truth.

He didn’t want to muddle this up when his mate was counting on him to lead, betraying his ignorance and unsuitability as an Alpha.

Steve blinked dazedly up at him, swollen red lips making Billy fight himself not to dive right back in and muddle away.

“How do you mean? I told you, I’ve never been touched, by anyone. I do not play you false, Captain.”

Billy huffed out a laugh, mostly at himself, his lack of grace in the bedroom where usually he was all smooth, honeyed tongue and firm hands.

“No, I know. I know well how true you are. I simply meant, how do you like to touch yourself? How do you seek your pleasure?”

Steve stiffened against him, face scrunching like he had been accused of something vile. His scent pricked with anxiety.

“I don’t do that.”

Billy licked a slow, indulgent stripe over his patch, moaning at the rich flavor of his arousal before whispering in his ear, Steve’s breath hitching on a warbling cry at the drag of his tongue.

“Of course you do. It’s alright, princess, you’re my mate. I won’t tell anyone. I just want to know what you like best.”

Steve shook his head, voice small. His fingers curled into Billy’s shoulders, lips and patch standing out in stark red contrast from his moon-pale skin.

“I’ve never done that. I didn’t want to behave like a mindless Omega slut.”

Rage rolled up Billy’s spine against a world that had taught his mate such slander and lies about himself that he was afraid of his own body.

Steve caught the scent of his anger, freezing in place with eyes wide, apologies stumbling from his pretty mouth.

Billy fell to his neck with kisses, pressing his words into his skin.

“No, not you. Never you. You’re perfect, let me show you.”

Steve relaxed in stages, tilting his head to allow better access to his patch, shaking and moaning when Billy nipped gently at it, teeth aching to sink in. His hands released their tight grip on Billy’s shoulders, running down his arms and squeezing his muscles with a satisfied hum.

Billy’s voice had gained a constant, faint growl, his Alpha hormones rising like the tide to consume him.

“Let me.”

Steve nodded into a kiss, allowing Billy’s rough hands to wander beneath his nightshirt, pushing it up to his waist and smoothing his palms up his flanks.

He could smell the warm spice of his mate, growing soft and wet for him even as his beautiful cock jutted out between them, firm and aching.

Billy lifted his thigh just enough to brush against the sticky tip and Steve keened, a fresh wave of slick filling Billy’s lungs with Steve’s scent, pulling him under.

He desperately wanted to throw his mate’s legs over his shoulders and lap him up at the source, but he had committed to this course and he would see it through all the way to shore.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he whispered, repeating the motion.

Steve closed his eyes and bit his lip, pushing his hips forward to press the length of his cock against Billy’s thigh, his own slender thighs locking around Billy’s bent knee. He breathed out shakily through his nose as his hands clamped around Billy’s shoulders.

He shook his head even as he started slowly riding Billy’s leg, wet down to his thighs, slicking their skin until he glided like silk.

“I don’t. I don’t know. I shouldn’t. I’ve never.”

Billy nosed a lock of hair out of his face, hands tightening around his waist as he fought with himself not to shove them lower, not yet. Steve was a prize to be savored. He growled into his patch instead, Steve’s hips picking up speed at the press of his mouth to his sensitive skin.

“You’re perfect. Don’t stop.”

Billy hissed when Steve moved closer, his own cock bumping into the satin skin of his belly. Steve paused for only a moment before shoving his face into Billy’s neck, kissing and licking his scent glands, rubbing their bodies together from stem to stern.

Billy lost the battle with himself to keep his hands still, letting one glide higher to feel his mate’s heaving chest and the other to fall lower, grabbing a glorious handful of his perfect ass.

“That’s good. You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart. Just the way you should.”

Steve looked up at him with those big brown eyes and Billy felt them prise open his rib cage to expose his tender parts, heart beating loud as a drum.

Steve may have been the prize, but Billy was the one who was lost.

He pulled back just enough to rip his shirt off over his head, Steve’s appreciative sounds and roving eyes immensely gratifying.

He started working Steve’s nightshirt higher and higher until it bunched beneath his arms, becoming enough of an impediment that his virginal, modest mate yanked it off with a vicious grumble of complaint.

Billy had sailed halfway across the world, and he had never seen anything so beautiful.

Steve didn’t give him a chance to appreciate the view, plastering himself to Billy, seeking his lips as he wiggled and writhed against him.

Billy held him by the hips, guiding him until their cocks slotted together. Steve was so wet with his own slick from rutting against Billy’s thigh that they slid like a dream.

Steve trembled, skin erupting in goosebumps as Billy started rocking their hips together, cocks sliding in a building, quickening rhythm.

His hands grabbed at Billy’s back, face pulling away to furrow his brow at the texture. Billy distracted him by swooping in to lick at his patch like he was trying to scrub it off with his tongue. He could feel Steve’s cock jump in reaction, the rough mess of Billy’s back forgotten.

He let his hand wander low, squeezing and lifting Steve’s ass into the motion of their hips, sliding his fingers across slick skin to brush, ever so lightly, against the center of him.

Steve jerked like he had been struck by lightning, strangled cry in his throat, head thrown back to thrust his patch in Billy’s face.

Billy kissed it gently, holding back the temptation to bite by a wave-tossed thread.

Steve whined with frustration, sinking his own teeth into Billy’s jaw, blunt edge biting a bruise into his skin.

Billy grunted, letting just one finger press past the resistance of Steve’s entrance, gliding into the wet, hot silk of his body like submerging himself in the sea.

Steve arched his back, eyes wide on Billy’s face as he moaned and spilled between them, cock throbbing and hole clenching around Billy’s finger.

Billy eased him onto his back, licking his spend from his heaving belly, sliding his hand through the rush of slick before wrapping it around himself and tugging viciously, eyes locked on his panting mate, spread out beneath him.

He growled on every exhale, greedily taking in the sight of Steve looking as rumpled as their sheets, satisfied Omega scent like ambrosia for his lungs.

Steve lifted his hand, curling it gently, tentatively, around the head of Billy’s cock and sending him flying over the edge, spilling over Steve’s delicate wrist onto his belly, dripping down his soft, pink cock.

Steve watched Billy make a mess of them with half-lidded eyes, holding still even as Billy started to rub it into his skin, half-mad with hormones, marking his mate, still growling under his breath.

Steve’s voice was also touched by gravel, hoarse from his cries.

“Are you going to mate me now? Secure our bond with my blood?”

Billy sat back on his heels, studying Steve’s face, now carefully neutral beneath the mess of his hair clinging to the sweat of his brow.

Billy’s heart was still pounding, blood singing with triumph. He shook his head like a wet dog to clear it, damp curls tossing back over his shoulders as he watched Steve’s eyes.

“Is that what you want, my treasure? Do you want my knot? My teeth buried in your throat?”

Steve’s gaze wavered, swallowing hard. Billy’s stomach sank as he smiled, bright and fresh and false.

“Yes, of course. That was the point of all this, after all. Go ahead.”

His thin, pale fingers dug into the sheets like he was bracing himself, throat dutifully bared but tense, jaw set.

Those open, tender parts of Billy that Steve had dragged out into the light staggered beneath the blow.

He dropped onto his back beside Steve, rubbing his hand over his face only to discover that he was marking himself with Steve’s scent. It hardly mattered, after the way Steve had just carved his name in the underside of Billy’s rib cage.

“No. You don’t want me. Not like that, not yet.”

Steve pushed to sit up, fighting the sheets to find his discarded nightshirt and pulling it on. The fabric stuck to his wet belly, Billy and Steve seeping through. He tucked his knees to his chest like a child, looking anywhere but at Billy.

“You are cross with me. As well you should be. I have failed to honor my debt after acting a whining whore in your arms. I’m sure I don’t know what came over me, I’ve never been so wanton in my life, I-”

He went pale as a ghost, eyes unfocused as his face contorted into a mask of horror.

“It’s my suppressants. They’ve worn off. I’ve finally fallen as low as any Omega trollop. Soon I’ll be writhing on the floor with heat madness like a filthy animal.”

And honestly, that didn’t sound so bad to Billy. He could do with some floor-writhing now and again, but Steve looked like he was going to be sick at the realization.

Billy shuffled closer, letting his shoulder press against Steve’s hip as he determinedly met his wide, terrified eyes.

“No, you won’t. Not if you don’t want to.”

Tears began spilling down Steve’s flushed cheeks and Billy would rather have been keel-hauled than watch his mate cry, each tear urging him to comfort his Omega.

He resisted gathering him into his arms only with the sure knowledge that to do so would gain him a black eye for his troubles.

Steve dashed away his tears, nose glowing red after he rubbed at it roughly.

“Of course I don’t want to! I won’t have a choice. Oh, what would you know about it? You were fortunate enough to be born an Alpha.”

Billy bit back an ugly laugh at Steve’s misconception of the fortune of his birth, knocking his shoulder against Steve to get his attention.

“It isn’t like that. I had a friend who went through her heat onboard a ship and she chose me to see her through it. She was sane and whole the entire time. Just a good deal more enthusiastic and needful in her affections. What heat madness is really referring to is the pain suffered from an unresolved heat.”

Steve glared down at him like Billy was the one being unreasonable, hands gripping his knees like he was holding himself together.

“How can you say that after the way I just behaved with you? Surely you witnessed me succumb to hysteria in your arms.”

Billy threw back his head with a groan of frustration. He wanted to go out onto the deck and shout at the pilot to change course back to England just so that he could find whoever had taught his mate such nonsense and toss them in the brig.

Instead, he took a deep, measured breath and tried to regulate his tone, filing down the edge from his voice.

“Steve. Sweetheart. That really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In fact, within the broad, beautiful range of things we may do together, that was quite tame. You behaved just as you ought. I can assure you, respectable people are doing the same thing everyday. It’s just a part of life. Hysteria is a foolish notion devised by jealous, ignorant Betas to diminish an Omega’s agency and power. It is not a genuine condition.”

Steve looked at Billy like he had just asserted that they were going to sail off into the sky, the laws of the natural world no longer holding any meaning.

“On what evidence do you base your claims? I have only ever been taught that the Omega is a shameful creature prone to heat madness and hysteria, losing all reason and self-control at the mere scent of an Alpha, which I have just proven to be true with my brazen actions.”

Billy couldn’t stand it anymore. He sat up, flinging the sheets away as he bent down to rummage for his trousers, hopping into them with both legs.

“You have been taught nothing but lies, and I mourn for you. I would show you the truth of your nature, treasure, if you would but let me.”

He leaned down, carding his hands through Steve’s hair before tightening his fingers until his breath hitched, pulling his head up to meet Billy’s eye.

“I tell you no lies, pretty boy. Search your senses, you know me to be true. Now, come out on the deck with me. Some fresh air will do you a world of good.”

Steve batted Billy’s hand away, scrubbing his own hands through his hair, eyes closed tight and voice cracking.

“I am ruined. I cannot go out amongst your people in good conscience knowing that at any moment I may come up heat mad and shame you before your crew.”

Billy was a whirlpool seething with anger, nowhere for it to go but down, deep inside of himself. He wanted to burn the world down for his mate.

Instead, he turned his back, scooping his shirt from the floor.

“Suit yourself, princess.”

He jolted with surprise at the cool drag of Steve’s fingers trailing over the knotted lines on his back, bracing against what he knew to be coming.

Steve spoke in a whisper, as though the walls of their chambers might be listening to him describe Billy’s shame.

“You were flogged. But, these scars are so old. You cannot be more than five and twenty, when-”

Billy jerked away, turning to face Steve as he yanked his shirt on over his head, mouth quirked in a humorless smile.

“I was twelve. I stole a loaf of bread to feed my sister. Law-abiding British soldiers came knocking at our door and my drunken waste of a father turned me in himself, belly still full of the bread he took from my sister’s mouth.”

Steve followed him, climbing from the bed to wrap his arms loosely around Billy’s waist, fingers catching low in the deepest groove, running far too close to Billy’s kidneys.

“You could have died.”

His pretty mouth turned down as though that would have been a sad event, rather than a relief for all involved.

Billy shrugged him off, going for his boots and pulling them on.

“Wouldn’t have been anything to cry about. Just another rat in the gutter, princess.”

He grabbed his cutlass, saluting Steve with it before fastening the strap around his hips.

“And so began my infamous life of crime, Captain Harrington. Are you gratified to hear my tale?”

Steve looked like he was going to cry again, standing there in his love-stained nightshirt, doe eyes boring into Billy’s soul.

Billy offered a sharp-toothed grin, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

“At least you need have no fear of clawing my back to ribbons in our mating bed, sweetheart. The law has already done it for you. Let that be a comfort to you when next you succumb to the depths of your Omega hysteria.”

The expression on Steve’s face when he shut the door between them followed him across the deck all the way to the wheel, where he stood until dawn, letting the salt air wash away the scent of Billy’s weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still nervous about writing Omegaverse, is it working for y’all?
> 
> Ponder this. Billy procures a parrot for pirate purposes and teaches it to say nothing but “pretty boy”. You’re welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, it was a storm that forced Captain Steve Harrington out of his self-confinement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Sailor Steve. Ahoy, ladies!

In the end, it was a storm that forced Captain Steve Harrington out of his self-confinement.

Tall waves crashed over the deck, rocking the ship hard to starboard, causing Steve to slam against the wall of the chambers that had been his entire world for two weeks past.

He secured his hair back with his ribbon to keep it out of his face, tugging on his boots and pulling open the door to be bombarded by pelting wind and rain.

Men scrambled over the deck securing rigging and chasing barrels turned loose by the storm.

Steve caught one with his boot, holding it against the wall until one of Billy’s men arrived to take it from him, giving him a startled look as Steve hurried to help him right and secure it.

Billy stood at the helm, hair blowing in the wind and clothing plastered to his skin by the rain, shouting orders in a voice that carried more due to his experience as a Captain than natural Alpha forcefulness.

He looked utterly magnificent.

Steve could have happily spent longer gaping up at the man who would be his mate if a line of rigging had not snapped six feet away from him.

Steve chased after it, catching and coiling the rope around his wrist, heaving it back with his entire body weight.

His entire, insufficient body weight.

There were many times in Steve’s life when he wished to be a strong, bulky Alpha instead of a wiry Omega, every muscle he possessed hard earned with concentrated effort.

This was one of those times.

Billy spotted him, roaring as Steve was lifted by the rigging, flying off his feet and into the boom with a painful crack against his back.

In an appalling display of a lack of self preservation, Billy leapt from the bridge onto the deck below, landing in a crouch and lunging after Steve, strong arms wrapped around his waist.

Steve turned to give thanks, pausing at the sight of Billy’s fearsome snarl, the potent reek of Alpha rage only slightly dampened by the rain.

“Of all the bloody times to come on deck! Get your ass below and stay out of the way. I will deal with you later!”

He wrenched the rigging from Steve’s hand, securing it to a cleat and shoving Steve in the direction of his quarters before shouting back at the bridge to pull hard to port.

Steve kept his sea legs as the ship pitched and dove in the waves, ducking out of sight long enough for Billy to take the helm before jumping back into the fray.

The crew accepted his help with little more than surprised glances and the occasional grumble, all of them taking Steve’s handiness on deck far better than Billy.

He had made his way to the bow of the ship just in time to see a woman securing rigging aloft the net get swept away in a wash of salt spray and red hair.

Steve climbed the rail immediately, tying a thick coil of rope tightly around his waist and securing it to the rail with a bowline knot.

“Man overboard!” he shouted, bracing himself against the wind as he perched on the rail to search the waves. He spotted her, alive and fighting the angry sea, close enough to reach if he hurried.

He heard Billy shouting something as he stood on the rail and pushed off, diving into a world of saltwater and disorientation.

The storm was twice as loud down in the water, waves crashing mightily against the hull echoing in the howling wind.

Steve struck out in the direction of the crew member, firm strokes to maximize speed and conserve energy.

Captain Harrington may not have been the bulkiest member of his own crew, but he was the strongest swimmer.

He caught up to the woman just as she was going under, buffeted by the waves.

Steve lashed her to his back, fighting for air as he swam against the current to return to the ship, lungs burning and legs cramping.

He pushed through the pain, shoving her head onto his shoulder to keep her airways clear. She was entirely, heavily limp, Steve praying that she was merely unconscious or fatigued and not dead.

The rope yanked hard against his waist, taking him underwater for a few terrifying moments before he surfaced to find Billy and a burly crew of his men pulling them in hand over hand, Billy’s boot braced against the rail as they heaved them back to the ship.

Steve pulled her arms over his shoulders, planting his feet against the hull to guide them upwards as the crew heaved them on deck, every muscle of Steve’s body aching as he turned to retch sea water onto the wooden planks.

Billy held his face in his hands, eyes burning fiercely into Steve for a silent moment before he released him to turn to the woman, rolling her onto her side and beating her back to loosen the water in her lungs.

The deep, wounded sound Billy made when she finally started to cough and retch hit Steve like a punch in the gut.

He watched Billy embrace the woman, little more than a girl actually, pale as parchment and spitting furious as a half-drowned cat.

Steve struggled against the knot at his waist, fingers weak and clumsy. The ring of agony about his middle told him to expect some nasty bruising at the very least.

He watched Billy carry the girl away below deck as unfamiliar hands gently moved Steve’s fingers from the knot, coaxing the wet rope free as deftly as any sailor in the Royal Navy.

Steve let his head fall back onto the deck, closing his eyes against the pouring rain and stinging salt spray, gathering himself to walk back to his chambers and await Billy’s wrath.

He was only half finished gathering when he was lifted against a strong chest, rolling his face into the familiar, welcome scent of Alpha.

Of Billy.

He had returned for Steve, carrying him to their chambers to lay him down on top of the counterpane, clinically stripping his boots and clothing and rubbing him with the blankets like a newborn babe.

Steve said nothing, throat burning with salt and a cough he couldn’t seem to shake.

Billy wrapped him tightly in the blankets, leaning over him with dripping wet hair, eyes wild and hands gripping Steve too hard about his sore arms.

He smelled like fear and fury and relief in equal measure, Steve left feeling like he had been pulled from the sea only to drown in a cocktail of Alpha pheromones.

“You’re a blasted miracle, princess, did you know that?”

Steve coughed in response, the ropeburn about his bruised abdomen aching with the movement.

Billy pushed Steve’s salt-stiff hair from his forehead, standing up from the bed to walk towards the door.

“And a bleeding idiot!” he shouted, slamming the door behind him and leaving Steve to shiver in the dark, curling against another coughing fit.

He could hear Billy roaring orders beneath the din of the storm until he finally succumbed to the deep sleep of the utterly exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all better appreciate that I read a whole three paragraphs on Age of Sail ship terminology for this trash. 
> 
> How do we think Max is feeling about her damsel in distress role? 👀 🔪 😡


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days and Steve had barely woken, complaining mightily at Billy’s assistance before passing out again in his arms, taking a year off Billy’s life before he heard him snoring.
> 
> Two days had given Billy time to think.
> 
> Unfortunately for him.
> 
> There was only one solution that he could live with, and he could say from experience that he would rather be flogged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We arrrrrr nearing the end of our journey, mateys. I’m going to miss writing this ridiculous pirate mess.

He had not asked for this.

When Billy had wished for treasure beyond knowing, he had been more in mind of barrels of doubloons or an emerald the size of his head.

Never, not once, had he thought to wish for a half-drowned Omega snoring softly on salt-stained sheets.

Billy had been a fool.

He eased the blankets down to apply a poultice to the sore, bruised muscles of Steve’s lower back, raw with rope burn, careful not to expose him further than was necessary.

Steve deserved to be treated like the gentleman that he was.

He whined, wincing in his sleep when Billy turned him over, the sound slicing down Billy’s spine like talons.

Billy hushed him, holding his wrist to his face and letting Steve nuzzle unconsciously into his scent glands. Steve melted back into the sheets with a soft contented sound in his sore throat that Billy knew he would be hearing in his dreams.

Two days and Steve had barely woken, complaining mightily at Billy’s assistance before passing out again in his arms, taking a year off Billy’s life before he heard him snoring.

Two days had given Billy time to think.

Unfortunately for him.

There was only one solution that he could live with, and he could say from experience that he would rather be flogged.

His hands moved gently over Steve’s skin, the bruising fully blossomed and beginning to heal. If they were truly mates, his healing would be aided by Billy’s scent. Even knowing it to be false, Billy couldn’t help scenting him at every opportunity, just in case.

His inner Alpha was clawing at him to heal and comfort Steve, the scent of wounded Omega spiking his protective instincts and making him jittery, pacing the deck every moment he couldn’t be with Steve.

Steve, who woke with a groan, hand pressed to his abdomen as he struggled to sit up, blinking blearily at Billy.

Billy helped to arrange pillows behind him, tugging the sheets up to his collarbone before fetching a glass of water and pulling the chair up to the side of the bed.

Steve drained the water, handing the glass back to Billy to set on the shelf.

Billy let their fingers brush together when he took the glass, his skin screaming out for contact.

He clasped his hands between his knees, pressing the feeling of Steve into his knuckles as he looked into Steve’s tired, beautiful, enormous eyes.

He took a deep breath, centering himself with Steve’s sweet scent, casting his voice low and solemn.

“Your debt is paid.”

Steve’s hand clapped to his patch, fingers running over it like he thought Billy had bedded and bitten him in his sleep. Like he assumed that Billy would have taken advantage of his vulnerability.

It hurt something small and fragile in the core of him that Steve still believed him capable of such.

Steve felt the smooth, unbonded skin, sending confused eyebrows Billy’s way.

“No, it isn’t. I remain unmated.”

Billy nodded, twisting a heavy gold ring on his finger set with a sapphire cabochon. It had been Max’s gift to him when he made Captain.

“That is true. And yet my sentiment remains unchanged. Your debt is paid in full.”

Steve straightened his posture, blinking away the veil of sleep. His skin and hair still glistened with tiny salt crystals from the dried sea water.

He was a sparkling Siren in Billy’s bed, calling his heart to dash upon the rocks.

“The woman you saved was my sister and first mate, Maxine.”

Steve leaned forward, placing a hand on Billy’s knee, heedless of the sheets falling to his battered waist.

It felt like he was trying to swallow a stone, there was such a lump in his throat at the genuine concern in Steve’s eyes.

“How is she? Is she much recovered?”

Billy laughed at the floor, thinking on the sore spot on his ribs in the shape of her foot.

“Oh yes. I brought her some broth this morning and I can assure you that she is back in fighting form.”

Emphasis on the fighting. Max was not an easy patient. He almost felt bad for Sinclair, but it was too satisfying to watch the sailor Max had set her cap for suffer.

He needed to get used to it, if he was going to stick around. And, given the amount of time he had now spent in Max’s quarters, he was either sticking around or meeting Billy’s sword.

He hesitated before covering Steve’s hand with his own, heart kicking at the feel of him, warm and steady in Billy’s palm.

“In exchange for her life, I release you from your debt. You are no longer bound to me as sailor or Omega, Captain Harrington.”

Steve’s mouth dropped open, giving Billy a torturous glimpse of his little pink tongue as he worked words around that never quite made it to Billy’s ears.

Billy released his hand, shoving the chair back from the bed with an awful scraping sound that echoed the screaming in his head.

He pulled a scroll from the table, unrolling it to show Steve a neatly scripted list.

“You can pick from any of our ports of call, I have prepared a list for you, here. You will be set free wherever you would choose, to live as you wish. I would recommend any of the top five on the list, they are, in my experience, the most fair and welcoming to Omegas. I have every faith that a man of your caliber would prosper there.”

An angry, splotchy flush rose up Steve’s chest to his neck all the way to his hairline, patch going deep and dark as his eyes flashed at Billy, lovely lips lifted in a sneer.

“A man of my caliber? You mean an Omega whore. You would dump me on some foreign dock to prostitute myself to sailors like a piece of meat. How could you? I thought. I thought you wanted-”

To Billy’s shock and horror, his eyes glistened with tears, scent souring with bitter betrayal and pain. Billy’s hands were clasped to his shoulders before he could think better of it, thumbs rubbing gently, soothingly across his skin.

Steve’s head half-turned, nostrils flaring as he instinctively took in a breath of Billy’s wrist.

Billy squeezed gently, Steve’s shoulders firm and supple in his grasp, posture proud as ever and military straight.

“I mean a Captain of the Royal Navy, Steve. I mean a good, strong, capable man.”

Steve shook his head, grief scraping his scent raw.

“I can never go back to what I was, Billy. I am a man surrendered, a man without honor. I am,” he took a sharp, ragged breath, “I am an Omega.”

The shame in his voice, in his scent, twisted through Billy like an electric eel, the sting of it penetrating through all of his hidden layers.

He shook Steve’s shoulders, looking him in the eye with every ounce of his conviction.

“You were a good Captain in an untenable position. You made the right choice.”

Steve gusted out a laugh that might have been a sob if he had given it half a chance, the fire in his eyes sending Billy back to the moment Steve had knelt before his sword and forever changed his life.

“I do not remember being in possession of a surfeit of choice.”

Billy laughed right back at him, fingers digging into the soft skin behind his shoulders, arms nearly quaking with the effort of resisting the urge to pull Steve into his body.

“Oh, you had a choice, sweetheart. You could have died at the end of my sword, just another Beta sailor as far as the world was concerned. You could have chosen your lofty honor over the lives of your men.”

Steve looked away, jaw firming. Billy caught him under the chin, forcing him to meet his eye as he whispered fiercely into the heaving space between them.

“But you are a far better man than that, Steve Harrington. You sacrificed your dignity, the one thing you held most dear, to save those who would not have saved you in turn. That, princess, is true nobility.”

Steve shook his head, big, dark eyes pulling Billy under that whirlpool of rage he held inside himself for the man he would have chosen for his mate. For the world they lived in that would force such a man to hate himself.

He hissed with anger, voice dropping Alpha low, Steve’s pupils bleeding outwards, scent deepening in response as Billy growled in his face.

“Fuck honor. You have more integrity and worth in your dainty little Omega finger than ten so-called honorable men.”

The soft, breathy sound Steve made at that slid like a knife between Billy’s ribs, lodging there forevermore.

It was actually painful, peeling his fingers away from Steve’s skin. The loss of him throbbing like a wound, nerves screaming in violent protest as Billy wrapped his fingers around the ring on his hand, scraping open the skin of his knuckle when he pulled it off.

He held it out to Steve, who considered it blankly, barely acknowledging the ring before turning back to Billy.

Billy rushed ahead quickly. If he was going to carve out the best and deepest piece of himself, he wanted to get it over with as fast as possible.

He pressed the ring into Steve’s hand, catching and holding his wrist when he made to pull away, fingers pressed to his glands, scenting Billy and dulling the pain of separation.

Even so, he sounded like he had been the one dragged from the sea, voice left battered and rough.

“I would make a gift of your mating chest, I have filled it with the things I would have provided you, as my mate. Clothing and jewelry and housewares alike. Along with a purse of gold to secure your shelter and comfort.”

All of the things Billy would have provided, apart from himself, the least of all the things he had to offer.

Steve’s chest was heaving, eyes darting over Billy’s face as he tried to press the ring back into Billy’s hand.

“This is too generous. I cannot accept it.”

Alpha growl crawled back into Billy’s voice without his leave, shoving into Steve’s space until he sat pressed against the headboard with Billy a scant inch away.

“You will accept it. I will never have another moment’s peace if you do not.”

He could not bear the thought of Steve alone and friendless in a foreign land, with no gold to his name.

No.

Mate or not, Billy would provide, and provide well.

Steve’s fingers curled around the ring, the bulk of it crass and ludicrous in his delicate hands. He slipped it over his thumb, entirely covering the space between his first and second joints.

Billy’s blood sang at the sight of Steve wearing his ring, mindless, soaring joy punching through him regardless of the true meaning of the gesture.

Steve’s first step away from him.

Billy backed away from the bed, resting his hand on his scabbard just to give himself something to hold onto.

“You can stay in my quarters, I will bunk down with the men. I can assure you that you will remain unmolested for the duration of the journey.”

Steve actually rolled his eyes at that, salt-stiff hair flopping in his face as he looked at Billy with something that might have been fondness in better circumstances.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Captain. You have conducted yourself admirably thus far. You shall remain in your quarters with me, just as we have done. I see no reason why this has to change. It is not as though there can be any repair done to my reputation at this point.”

Billy scoffed, turning his face toward the door. He could hear his men working on the other side, shouting to each other above the wind.

“I’m not worried about your reputation, pretty boy.”

He was worried about his own willpower, worried about overcoming the powerful, burning need to treat Steve, to treat Captain Harrington, like his mate.

It was going to be torture to share his bed, knowing that it would never be their mating bed. Knowing that he would never be Billy’s mate.

Not anymore.

Steve was watching him with big, sad eyes, hands folded demurely in his lap. The sapphire on his thumb winked in the light of Billy’s lantern.

“It’s truly no matter, Captain Hargrove. Billy. Stay.”

What could he possibly say to that, but yes?

Billy was never going to leave Steve when he was asking him to stay. Who knew how long such a gift would last before he reached the endless empty horizon of his life after Steve had gone?

He would spend the rest of his days combing the seas for treasure knowing that he will never find it, knowing that it had once slept softly beside him and he had let it slip away.

He stood to pour water into the wash basin, laying out clean linen.

Steve started to lift the sheet, legs swinging to the floorboards, movements slow and stiff after being so long abed.

Billy spun on his heel to face the door, already making his way toward it, throat constricting around his words.

“You must wish to bathe the sea away. I will leave you to it.”

He didn’t pause when Steve said his name, striding from the room to bark orders at his crew, staying away from his cabin until he could be sure that Steve was sleeping.

Until he could slide into bed like a thief, stealing precious moments of Steve’s face, slack with sleep, of his deep, even breaths.

Of his hand, curled on the mattress between them, wearing Billy’s ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think Steve is going to do about Billy’s plan to dump his booty on dry land?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve knew that something was wrong from the moment he awoke.
> 
> He was too hot, skin slicked with sweat, the blankets stifling.
> 
> He moaned as he kicked them off, a deep, throbbing ache setting in at the very core of him.
> 
> Billy stirred beside him, breathing deeply and moaning himself as he rolled them together on the bed, the ache already soothing in Steve when he lay his full weight on top of him, sleepily nuzzling his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO I LIED
> 
> I couldn’t keep it to eight chapters. They wouldn’t stop Jolly Rogering, crossing bones, plundering the booty, etc. 
> 
> I hope y’all are prepared for some literal bodice ripping.

It wasn’t easy, for either of them, to revert back from their betrothal, however difficult its inception.

To his shame, Steve still found himself snuggling close to Billy in his sleep, taking great, greedy breaths of his rich, comforting scent before he properly woke.

Billy tried to keep his distance, barely coming to his quarters to sleep and timing it after Steve had usually retired.

Respectful, at all times, of Steve’s person and privacy, even as he helped him to heal from his adventure overboard until the bruises had faded to nothing and they had no more excuse to continue.

He missed their chess games, and he missed their heated debates over maritime law, and, yes, he missed their courtship.

He just missed Billy.

And it was only going to get worse, once he chose a port to weigh anchor.

Steve was taking his time deliberating over his choices. They were still a week away from land anyway.

It was a daunting prospect, striking out on his own as an Omega without suppressants. He had left his last supply aboard his ship and had no way of making more.

He lived in fear of his approaching heat. The first one he would experience in full.

He had presented at seventeen with what the physicians had termed a ’false heat’, apparently common for young Omegas not yet ready to be bred. It was but a brief, mild shadow of the true heat he should have been experiencing ever since.

The medication had put a stop to that before it could begin, and now Steve didn’t know what to expect.

His first false heat had been the worst and lowest experience of his entire life, undoubtedly due in greater part to his world and family crashing down around him than any physical symptoms.

He remembered the fever, aches and cramps, and he had been hard and, well, wet, which had been positively mortifying.

Beyond that, all he could recall was horror and fear and deep, abiding shame.

Several times, he worked himself up to asking Billy about it, to better prepare himself, but every time Billy cast those sea glass eyes upon him the words died in his throat.

He had never been such a coward in all his life, and he knew his reckoning was coming.

He simply had not expected it to arrive so quickly and completely.

Steve knew that something was wrong from the moment he awoke.

He was too hot, skin slicked with sweat, the blankets stifling.

He moaned as he kicked them off, a deep, throbbing ache setting in at the very core of him.

Billy stirred beside him, breathing deeply and moaning himself as he rolled them together on the bed, the ache already soothing in Steve when he lay his full weight on top of him, sleepily nuzzling his hair.

Steve stretched and whined beneath him and Billy went rigid, eyes flying open on a sharp inhale before scrambling off the bed, taking the blankets with him in an undignified pile when his backside hit the floor with a thud.

“Oh, princess.”

His voice was thick with sleep and ragged with horror.

“You’re in heat.”

Steve sat up, crawling across the mattress toward the tangle of sheets and Billy, who scooted backwards until he hit the wall, kicking away the blankets.

All the times he had almost asked Billy welled up in his throat to come tumbling out in a stilted, whining mess.

“I’ve never. Not since I presented. I don’t know how to, to do this. Billy, please.”

He wasn’t even sure what it was that he was asking for, only that he had to ask. And it had to be Billy who gave it to him.

Billy stood and staggered from the room, slamming the door behind him.

He felt the impact of wood against metal like it had battered his bones.

His Alpha has rejected him. Not only was Steve an Omega, but he wasn’t even a good one. Steve collapsed into the sheets, sobbing.

The ache was worse, as though simply having Billy out of his sight was enough to cause him real, physical pain.

He pulled Billy’s pillow over to himself, compelled to rub it against his face and throat, scenting himself with the remnants of Alpha.

It was good, soothing, calming some of the highest waves battering his hull and rocking his world, but it wasn’t enough.

A sharp, twisting cramp struck just below his navel, and he remembered this part, curling into a rumpled, sweaty ball around the pillow, only realizing that he was hard when his aching cock brushed against the softness and started throbbing insistently.

It had only begun and already, this was intolerable.

He was making noises, awful, animal sounds that he tried to strangle in his throat and stifle into the pillow.

There was no reason to broadcast his shame if he could help it.

He closed his eyes and rocked himself, face pressed hard to the pillow, chasing Billy’s scent, fear scratching at him with the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

He startled at a burst of sound, the door slamming suddenly against the wall like it had been thrown open in a violent wind.

Billy had returned, looking half-crazed with an armful of items that he dumped on top of the table with a clatter.

The scent of him fell on Steve like a cool, calming rain, easing the worst of his pains.

Billy approached warily, eyes averted from the humiliating mess of Steve balled up around his pillow, choking on desperate, beseeching whimpers.

He reached beneath the bed for a heavy plank, closing and barring the door before returning to the table to arrange his items.

Fear curdled in Steve’s stomach when he spied a set of iron manacles among the assortment, Billy setting those to one side while he sorted out piles of food and clean cloths and a few jars and pouches Steve couldn’t begin to guess at.

Billy leaned on the table, his back rising and falling with a deep breath before he turned and approached Steve with a small leather pouch, opening it to release the sharp scent of dried herbs. He pulled two curled-up brown leaves from the pouch, holding them in front of Steve’s face. Steve recoiled at the smell, but Billy followed, determination on his face.

“Chew them, for ten minutes. Do it now.”

It wasn’t an Alpha command, and yet Steve’s mouth fell obediently open, tongue lolling out for Billy to place the bitter herbs carefully in place, Steve moaning gratefully at the scent of his warm hand under his nose, so close to his soothing wrist.

Billy snatched his hand back when Steve started to chew, pressing it against his own nose before yanking it down to his side with a harsh shake of his head.

Steve pushed the lump of half chewed leaves into his cheek, trying to speak around it.

“What is it?”

Billy jerked the pouch closed, returning it to the table and keeping his back turned to Steve.

Steve was the one in heat but already, Billy’s shirt was all but transparent with sweat, plastered to his skin. They had both taken to sleeping in their clothes, for propriety’s sake, and his shirt hung haphazardly out of his trousers like he had tried to tuck it in and given up halfway through the process. His bare toes curled into the floorboards beneath him.

“They will prevent seed from taking root in your womb. It is always wise to use them, just in case. Max gifted them to me. Remind me to kill Sinclair after this. Keep chewing.”

He turned to watch, gripping the table behind him, some of the tension bleeding out of Billy’s shoulders as he watched Steve chew, screwing up his face at the bitterness.

“Who is Sinclair?”

Billy scoffed a harsh, low laugh, hands tightening around the edge of the table like he was keeping himself in place.

“A dead man.”

Steve didn’t understand, but he didn’t possess the faculties to continue his focus on questioning, undulating around the pillow beneath a wave of rolling pain, choking on his moans.

Billy made a rough sound across the room, the chair scraping over the floor as he pulled it out to face the bed, setting it close beside the table.

Steve shuddered and cried out when his hands closed around the manacles, short chain rattling forebodingly as he dragged it across the table.

Billy hushed him, a warm, soothing rumble setting in his chest that Steve could just barely make out from his nest on the bed.

He swept his assortment of items on the table closer to the chair, nearly within reach of the bed before taking a seat, setting the manacles in his lap.

Steve had heard horror stories, Omegas chained to a bed for the duration of their heat while Alphas took turns rutting on them as they slipped into madness.

He didn’t want to believe, he couldn’t believe that Billy was such as Alpha, even as he gripped the manacles in his hands.

Steve made a high, fearful sound, clinging tightly to his pillow as Billy leaned forward, teeth gritted, before taking a deep, sharp breath and bending down to fasten one end around his own ankle.

The iron closed with a muted clink, locking into place with a turn of the solid key in Billy’s fist.

Steve sat up in surprise, blinking away the haze of heat, voice rough and words slightly slurred.

“Billy. What are you doing?”

Billy’s hands shook around the other end of the manacles, slamming them shut around the closest leg of the table, securely bolted to the floor.

The click of the key in the lock seemed to echo through his chambers.

Billy looked up at him through a halo of damp golden curls, key clutched tightly in his fist.

“I won’t have you against your will. I should go, but I cannot. I won’t leave you to endure this by yourself.”

Steve was instantly, humiliatingly grateful, crooning in approval at the thought of Billy staying.

The sound seemed to pain Billy, twisting in his seat with an aborted growl.

Steve reached for clarity, taking deep, steadying breaths of Billy’s comforting scent, so close but not quite enough.

“But, you said. You assured me that I would retain my wits, do you expect to lose your own?”

Billy shook his head, turning the key over and over in his hands, jaw working.

“No. But you are vulnerable. Susceptible. You will soon send me into rut and I fear I may lose sight of my nobler intentions. I do not trust myself not to try to persuade you to change your mind.”

Soaring, sweeping joy coursed through Steve at the notion, taking root in his mind and spreading like a flood over his entire body.

He gasped with it, crawling toward Billy on the mattress, dragging the pillow in his fist.

“You would still wish to take me for your mate?”

Billy gave a sharp bark of laughter that grew wet at the end like a heaving sob, flinging the key to bounce against the wall on the opposite side of the room, rolling to the floor far out of his reach.

“Pretty boy, I would trade all the treasure of the sea for such a privilege. You cannot fathom the depth of my longing.”

Steve crumpled to the bed, breath going raw and ragged at the sudden swell of cramping pain. He ground his teeth, the pain originating in his abdomen and wrapping around his back to shoot down his thighs.

He slumped into a heap as it passed, desperately seeking the traces of Billy on the pillow, inhaling greedily before turning his head to look at Billy, voice croaking softly.

“Oh, I think I may have some small notion.”

Billy’s hands gripped the arms of his chair so hard that the wood began to creak beneath his fingers.

“That is simply the influence of your heat talking. You aren’t thinking clearly.”

Steve turned to bite his pillow, groaning through the next wave of pain, pushing up onto his knees and elbows to rock against it.

Billy groaned along with him, voice scraping low.

“Steve, let me.”

He allowed his head to rest on his fists, watching Billy as he panted out his words.

“Let you what, Captain?”

Billy wrenched forward at the waist, eyes black with pupil, the blue of the sea subsumed by the storm. His shackles clattered against the table leg.

The scent of him rose deep and smoky around Steve like a balmy mist, softening the sharpest edge of his pain.

“Let me instruct you, sweetheart. Let me help. I won’t lay a fucking hand on you but do not ask me to watch you suffer.”

Steve howled at the next wave, twisting pain from the base of his spine shooting up his entrance with a throbbing, empty ache he had never felt before, going slick between his legs.

He collapsed onto his side, watching Billy through sweat-damp fringe.

“Well, go on, then. Let’s not stand upon ceremony now, Alph-” he broke off with a cry, drawing his knees up as he tried to put pressure on his abdomen with his hands.

Billy’s manacles clanked and scraped as he shifted restlessly, his chest heaving, lips bitten raw.

“This isn’t right. It’s not supposed to be like this. You are not supposed to suffer so.”

Steve fought back a wave of nausea, calling upon the experience of years at sea to quell it. He whispered, horrified, into the awful space between them.

“Heat madness.”

Billy shook his head forcefully, taking in the sight of Steve curled on the bed like he was something wondrous instead of a sweaty, pathetic mess.

“No. It’s that medicine they’ve had you on since you presented. Your body is unprepared. We need to help it along, ease your symptoms.”

Steve nodded gratefully, inching closer to the edge of the mattress, wanting to be closer to Billy.

“Please, tell me what to do.”

Billy licked his lips, eyes darting all over Steve like he couldn’t decide where to look before settling on his face.

“Listen to your body, what do you need?”

He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell what it was that his body was asking for, beyond Billy, Billy, Billy.

He buried his face in his pillow with a cry of frustration, turning to Billy with tears burning down his cheeks.

“I need you!”

Billy looked from Steve’s face to his iron grip on the pillow before wrenching off his shirt with one hand, scrubbing over the glands on his neck and wrist, hesitating a moment before rubbing it against his crotch and then tossing it to Steve on the bed.

Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head as the spicy, deep Alpha scent of Billy rushed over him, snatching up the shirt and bunching it on the bed beneath him, rubbing himself against it like a cat.

“Oh, Billy. You smell incredible.”

Billy threw his head back with a humorless, hysterical laugh, the tense muscles of his bare torso glistening with sweat.

Steve had the sudden, disgusting, wonderful urge to lick it off.

“You think I smell good, princess? You smell like a bloody five course meal, on a golden platter, served by angels, in heaven. Fuck!”

His hips arched off the chair up into nothing, Steve’s eyes snapping to the intimidating bulge in his trousers.

His own cock pulsed and throbbed in response, aching and needy. His hips moved without thought, grinding into Billy’s shirt against the mattress with a thready moan of relief.

Billy moaned in response and Steve froze, mortification running through him like a knife. He sat up onto his knees, pressing his thighs tightly together against the ache, hands balled into fists as he trembled and sobbed.

Billy rumbled soothingly, voice soft and low, focused on Steve.

“It’s alright, baby. Move how you need. I can’t touch you, so you’re going to have to do it for me. Go on, now.”

Steve slowly, haltingly, let his hands wander under his shirt, moaning with surprise when they passed across his beaded nipples.

Billy’s eyes flashed at the sound, scent spiking in a wave of Alpha arousal and approval that sent Steve floating in blissful relief.

“That’s it, pretty boy. Keep going.”

Steve ran his hands down his body, palming his hard, leaking cock with a sharp gasp at the bolt of sensation.

Billy was panting like he had just scaled the mast, knees spread wide to expose the rigid line of his cock in his trousers. Steve briefly and intensely considered the merits of crawling over and rubbing his face against it, shivering at the very idea.

Billy’s tongue seemed to be having trouble staying in his mouth, licking his lips and peeking out between his teeth as he stifled a moan.

“Good, that’s good. You can take your clothes off if you want to, sweetheart, it’s okay. I know they’re uncomfortable.”

He was right, Steve’s clothes felt like they were made of nettles, linen scratching rough against his sensitive skin.

He tried to work on the fastening of his trousers before giving up with a plaintive whine, fingers too clumsy and head going cloudy with urgent, burning need.

He fell onto his back instead, dragging Billy’s shirt up to stuff it into his mouth, sucking on the muted flavor of him that had absorbed into the fabric as he shoved both hands down the front of his trousers.

Billy grunted like Steve was reaching in his trousers instead, voice picking up a growl on every exhale that soothed down Steve’s spine, pulsing along with the empty ache inside him.

The feel of his hands on his needy, hot skin was so good that Steve didn’t know what to do with himself, crying and writhing on the bed under a fresh spike of Alpha lust.

Billy’s voice cut through the haze, ringing clear and giving Steve something to cling to in the maelstrom of need.

“Perfect, just like that. Don’t stop, treasure. You can touch anywhere you need, it’s okay. You’re being so good for me.”

Billy’s praise was shamefully welcome, bolstering Steve’s courage and dulling the sharp prick of mortification as he wrapped one hand around his cock, squeezing experimentally even as he let his other hand wander, shaking but determined, down to his entrance.

He was so wet that both hands were already slick to the wrist, gliding easy and sweet across his skin.

He turned his head to Billy, letting his shirt fall from his lips as he focused on his wild, beautiful face.

“Billy, please. I’ve never, I don’t. Please, Alpha!”

Billy’s fierce, dark eyes alternated between watching Steve’s face and tracking the motion of his hands under his trousers. His knuckles were white against the arm of the chair as he wet his lips and nodded encouragingly.

“You just need to keep going, baby. Go inside, it’s alright. You’re ready for me-ready for it. You won’t hurt yourself, give it a try.”

Steve kept his focus on Billy’s face, his own eyes going wide as he trailed his fingers lightly, searchingly, across his entrance, Billy making a sound in his throat in response that had Steve’s cock jumping in his hand, fingers soaked in a pulse of slick.

His skin there was hot and puffy, swollen and sensitive, the ache intensifying at the contact. He locked eyes with Billy and pressed one finger in with a hitching, drawn out moan of shock and pleasure.

It felt overwhelmingly right, like something clicking into place inside him that had been painfully mislaid.

Billy hissed his approval, his hips rocking in the chair like he couldn’t quite contain himself, scent going raw and heavy as he slipped into the first stages of his rut.

“Just like that. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Steve let his finger slide inside himself all the way to the last knuckle before drawing it back out again, eyes rolling up and hips lifting, jolting from the bed at the electric friction.

Billy’s chains rattled, Steve opening his eyes to find him half lifted from the chair, hands still gripping the arms even as he bared his teeth on a growl, muscles cording with tension from his neck down his arms and chest.

His belly quivered with the effort of holding back, Steve’s hole clenching around his finger at the beautiful sight.

He couldn’t stop moving, heels sliding on the sheets and head tossing as he let his hand stroke up and down his cock, almost too sensitive to bear it.

Sounds escaped him that should have made him burn with humiliation and instead gave him an odd sense of power at Billy’s groaning, desperate response.

He looked over at Billy to find him flushed and panting, eyes heavy and lips stained red, desirous and beautiful.

Steve cried out his name as he pressed two fingers inside himself, muscles shaking and locking at the perfect stretch as he spilled over his fist, internal muscles squeezing rhythmically around his fingers.

The worst of the pain faded away, his head clearing for a few brief, blissful minutes.

He pulled his dripping hands from his trousers, watching Billy lick his lips at the sight like a man starving before a feast.

He held them out to Billy, sliding from the edge of the bed onto his knees.

Billy jerked toward him and then away, manacles clattering in protest. He stared at the ceiling, mouth open as he tried not to breath through his nose.

“Sweetheart. Don’t.”

Steve crawled closer on his knees, settling between Billy’s spread legs, letting the rich scent of Alpha wash over him with a grateful moan.

Billy whimpered like Steve had hurt him, pressing himself as far back into the chair as he could go.

Steve peered up at him through his lashes and Billy swallowed hard, throat bobbing when Steve placed a gentle, beseeching hand on his leg.

“You said. Billy, you said you wanted me on my knees. Begging, for your-” Steve dropped his eyes to the hard line of Billy’s cock in his trousers, licking his lips nervously before whispering, “begging for your knot.”

He had never said the word before, it stumbled out awkwardly and quietly but Billy reacted like he had been electrocuted.

Billy groaned and smacked his head against the back of the chair, arching his back off the wood as he wrapped his hands tighter around the armrests.

Steve rested his head on Billy’s thigh, luxuriating in the closeness. His straining muscles felt like warm iron beneath his cheek.

“Please, Billy? I need you so. I need your knot.”

Billy screwed his eyes shut as he continued banging his head against the chair, muttering something under his breath that Steve had to concentrate to recognize as navigational calculations.

He sat up on his knees, arms akimbo, offended to have lost Billy’s attention.

“Are you? I’m sorry, are you doing calculus right now?”

Billy stopped banging his head to roll it in Steve’s direction, hair matted with sweat and eyes nearly black. His voice dipped down sweet and low.

“It’s either I do calculus or I do you, pretty boy. I need to keep myself distracted or else I’ll-”

Steve was suddenly less offended, heat already rising all over his body from the inside out. He placed both hands on Billy’s knees, leaning into him.

“Or else you’ll what?”

Billy lunged into his space, sharp teeth nipping at his chin and fixing him with a forbidding stare.

Steve had never been so wet in his life.

“Or else I’ll tear your fucking clothes off and mate you in this blasted chair.”

Steve tilted his head, considering. Billy couldn’t seem to look away from his patch at this distance and it itched and throbbed with need at the attention.

Steve stretched it taut, trailing wet fingers along the center with a shiver that ran down to his toes. Billy sounded like he was choking on air.

“You set a fine course, Captain.”

He climbed onto Billy’s lap, the pain instantly halved at the contact of their bodies. He swirled his hips experimentally, pressing the worst of his ache against Billy’s hardness with a moan of relief.

Billy started panting through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring as Steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, hands looping behind his neck with another tiny circle of his hips.

“Anchors aweigh.”

Billy’s teeth snapped forward, catching his collar as his hands released the arms of the chair with an ominous creaking of abused furniture to grab onto the open vee of lacing just below his collarbone.

The sound of rending fabric as Billy growled and tore his shirt down to the waist had Steve pulsing around a thick wave of slick, soaking through both of their trousers.

Billy’s hips surged up beneath the flood, cupping Steve’s ribs and lifting his chest to Billy’s face, licking a long, hard stripe over the tight bud of his nipple, dragging his teeth across it as Steve cried out, grabbing a fistful of curls when Billy started to suck relentlessly.

The tide rose once more to pull him under and he started shaking in his arms, sobbing and pleading with no thought to his shattered pride.

Billy pulled back to look at his face, holding Steve up with firm hands on his shoulders, his eyes shining damp like he was fighting tears.

A thread of grief ran through his scent and Steve whined in question, searching his face.

Billy shook his head, tearing his gaze away from Steve’s patch to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry, my treasure. I promised to set you free. You deserve to be free of me.”

Steve pressed a hand to his jaw, fighting his way through the thickening fog of heat to get his point across, calling on his military discipline to ignore the burning need, the urge to move against Billy’s hard body.

“That is not what you promised. You promised me that I could choose. You promised my will, my choice. That is more than anyone has ever offered me. You told me to choose my port of call. I choose you. I would far rather sail the seas with you than step a foot ashore beneath the weight of all the riches in the world.”

Billy’s breath caught on a sob, trembling beneath Steve as he looked up at him like a benediction, big hands falling to curl around his waist.

Steve traced the beautiful lines of his face, running his fingers over long damp eyelashes and high cheekbones, bowed lips and a stubborn chin.

“I choose the man who has shown mercy, and patience, and loyalty. I choose the Captain who is strong and fierce and commands respect. Who would spend his days casting sail with me at his side, his evenings losing chess,” Billy snorted, the whisper of a smile playing at his lips, “and his nights.”

Steve shifted on his lap, grinding down against his cock, letting his voice drag sweet and sultry through the narrow space between them.

“I choose the Alpha who would spend his nights making love to me. As his partner and equal.”

Billy looked stricken, jaw dropped and eyes wide before an edge of joy crept in, face splitting in a smile as dazzling as it was filthy.

He lifted Steve in the air with a triumphant shout, setting him back down with a slow, dirty grind, finally giving in to the screaming demands of his rut.

He pressed panting lips to Steve’s patch, groaning into his skin.

“Poseidon’s beard, princess, get the key.”

Steve felt like a candle flame, burning bright and fire hot, melting into Billy with a liquid grace that seemed to have always been there beneath the surface, waiting for discovery.

He arched his patch under Billy’s tongue, trailing his hands down Billy’s solid chest as he rocked in his lap.

“Oh, I don’t think we need it, do you? I’m quite comfortable right here.”

But Billy had passed the point of teasing, skin flushed and fever hot, hips jerking with a grunt every time Steve pressed down against him.

He framed Steve’s face with his hands, pretty eyes dark and pleading.

“Please. Steve. Beloved. Release me to love you properly, the way you deserve. I swear we will explore the joys of restraint another night. Let me free to have you this first time.”

Steve pondered the manacle, lifting the chain with his toe and letting it fall with a clatter.

“Very well, but I shall hold you to it.”

Billy lifted his hips so forcefully that the chair scraped across the floor, Steve crying out and gripping his shoulders to stay in place.

“Oh, sweetheart, you can hold me to anything you want after this.”

The wicked grin on Billy’s face was filled with promises that sent Steve scrambling to get the key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I have fully written Omegaverse now that we’ve reached the heat sex. Punch that ticket, we’ve arrived in Heck.
> 
> How’d I do? 
> 
> I definitely feel like this entire trash venture can be summed up with Steve seductively saying “Anchors Aweigh.” Let this be my legacy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Billy Hargrove had been clapped in irons on three occasions in his life.
> 
> The first, he had been a filthy underfed street rat, just learning how to convert his terror into rage.
> 
> The smartly uniformed soldiers who dragged him in chains to the whipping post had taught him the final lesson in that important skill.
> 
> The second occasion had been the moment of his greatest loss at sea, the blood of his former captain soaking the knees of his trousers, the scent of iron burning his nostrils and filling his mouth even as the weight of it pulled down on his wrists.
> 
> The third occasion.
> 
> Well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh y’all I struggled with this chapter. I’ve never written ABO before this fic and holy crap it’s complicated.  
> I’m also coming out of some gnarly deadlines rn so I can finally focus on my trash again! Yay!

Captain Billy Hargrove had been clapped in irons on three occasions in his life.

The first, he had been a filthy underfed street rat, just learning how to convert his terror into rage.

The smartly uniformed soldiers who dragged him in chains to the whipping post had taught him the final lesson in that important skill.

The second occasion had been the moment of his greatest loss at sea, the blood of his former captain soaking the knees of his trousers, the scent of iron burning his nostrils and filling his mouth even as the weight of it pulled down on his wrists.

The third occasion.

Well.

Steve’s elegant fingers formed a gentle ring around Billy’s ankle as he worked the heavy key into the lock with shaking hands.

It did not escape Billy’s rut-addled mind that the action was fairly symbolic.

He would have made a jest about it had he not been burning alive with need for his mate.

His beautiful mate, who had chosen Billy, of his own free will.

It was hardly to be believed. Miraculous.

Far better than he deserved.

But what kind of pirate would he be if he didn’t take what he could get?

The manacles released with a muted clank of metal against the floorboards and Steve lifted his sweet, fever-flush face to smile in triumph at Billy.

Billy hauled him up from the floor into his lap to lick the smile from his lips, tracing the blunt edge of his teeth with his tongue and inhaling his shocked gasp.

He hooked his hands beneath Steve’s thighs and stood to carry him to the bed, his mate clinging tightly to his shoulders and writhing in his arms.

Once Steve rested securely against the mattress, Billy ripped away the last shreds of his shirt, the sound of tearing linen going straight to his aching cock.

Tattered ribbons fell around him on the bed, framing his little pink nipples and lithesome chest as he gazed up at Billy with parted lips and wide, dark eyes.

Billy wanted to eat him alive.

He could already feel his knot throbbing, ready to lock his sweet mate, to keep him right where he belonged, pinned and stuffed with Billy’s cock.

His. Forever.

Rut hit hard with flashes of near-violent urges to pin and mount and bite tempered by equally strong urges to provide and protect.

Billy had never felt the like before. He was being tossed in the waves of it as much as Steve, who looked as though he was finally fully succumbing to his heat, arching off of the bed to rub against any part of Billy’s body that he could reach.

His plaintive whimpers made Billy’s cock blot out fat drops of precum, adding to the wet spot across the front of his trousers.

Nothing, however, when compared with the mess of Steve’s trousers, stained wet down to the knees along the backs of his thighs.

Ruined.

Billy took hold of his front placket, yanking it open with a pop of protesting threads, buttons pinging against the bulkhead and floorboards as Steve cried out, struggling to kick them off and generally impeding the process more than he assisted.

Billy leaned down with a flat hand on his chest, pressing him to the bed while he looked into his wild, desperate eyes.

“Stay still and let me discover you, treasure.”

Steve rubbed his thighs together with a choked whine, trembling with the effort of laying still while Billy divested him of every last stitch of clothing until he lay bare and glorious upon the bed.

And every inch of him, Billy’s.

Billy’s mouth watered at the feast before him. He had been starving all his life and now here was his hard-won ambrosia.

Steve smelled like a dream, Billy getting drunk off of his scent like it was the finest, sweetest rum.

He stripped out of his clothing at record speed, leaving it in careless piles on the floor as he prowled up the mattress to his mate.

Steve squeaked when Billy grabbed him behind the knees, yanking his legs up and apart so he could stare greedily down at him without impediment.

Perfection. Sheer perfection.

Steve was pink and swollen and slick from his crease to his cock and Billy’s whole body ached with the urge to mount him.

But, first.

He threw Steve’s legs over his shoulders, diving down to lick a wide stripe from his tailbone up to the tip of his stiff pink cock as Steve jerked and yelped beneath him, heels drumming against his back.

“Billy! What are you—? Oh!”

Billy started in earnest as Steve’s shocked voice trailed away beneath a heartfelt moan when Billy’s tongue traced the contours of his entrance, pressing just inside. Steve gasped and pulsed slick into his mouth until Billy was groaning in response, opening his mouth wider to take more in.

He tasted of the sea. Deep and complex and dangerously alluring, and Billy was as lost to Steve as he had been to the sea the first time he stood aboard deck.

Irrevocably.

Steve dug strong fingers in Billy’s hair, holding his mouth in place while he licked and sucked and thrust his tongue as deep as it could go.

Words climbed out of his beautiful throat on a high, thin whine, stroking Billy’s ego, slick dripping down his chin.

“Billy, oh god, I didn’t. I didn’t know you could—oh!”

Billy nipped at the meat of his ass, licking up a smear of his slick all the way to his folded knee, the low, satisfied growl in his chest tinging his words a darker shade.

“I promise I can, baby. I can and I will. Everyday for the rest of our lives, treasure. Fuck, you’re delicious.”

He dove back in, flicking his tongue in soft, teasing circles while Steve writhed beneath him, small, helpless sounds escaping that made Billy feel like he had a ten pound knot throbbing between his legs.

Steve grabbed a handful of curls and yanked back, bowing Billy’s neck and baring his throat in a way that should have put him on edge, but instead just made him shiver at the thought of Steve’s teeth against his skin.

It wasn’t common, for Alphas to want that, but.

Billy was no common man.

Steve had pushed up on his elbows, flushed and panting, tugging at Billy’s hair until he started to crawl up the length of his body on the bed, pausing to kiss and lick wherever the mood struck.

So, everywhere.

Steve was uncharted waters and Billy was the first to explore his depths.

He was heavily aware of the honor bestowed upon him, holding back the fierce animal surge of his rut like a dagger clamped between his teeth as he climbed up the bed.

Steve mewled in surprise when Billy took a detour to nip and lick at his nipples, trailing his open mouth up, up, up.

All the way to his patch.

Steve’s neck arched on instinct, stretching it taut. All that thin, pulsing skin ready for Billy’s claim.

Billy growled, harsh and low, building rut aiming cannon fire directly at his composure, breaching the hull.

Here, at his patch, Steve smelled like.

He smelled like.

Like.

He smelled like everything Billy had ever yearned for and never received. Like warmth and comfort. Tenderness and honesty.

He smelled like love.

Billy couldn’t keep his tongue from tracing over the delicate skin, tasting love and pleasure and sin.

He had never had the like.

It was devastating.

Steve keened as Billy licked again, frantically scrubbing his tongue over the sensitive mating glands just beneath the surface.

Strong, fine-boned hands gently pulled Billy away from his patch to meet brown eyes, soft and concerned even in his fever-flush face.

“Billy. Are you alright?”

And.

Billy was trembling, all over. He hadn’t even noticed, he was so focused on his mate.

He shook his head, heart knocking against his ribs like it was demanding to be heard.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart. Just my rut.”

Steve nodded, fingers lightly tracing over Billy’s face and, fuck.

They smelled like Omega, and sex, and Steve.

Billy sucked one into his mouth, scraping the pad of Steve’s finger with his canine and Steve shot into action.

Surging upward, he mashed their lips together, pulling back only to catch Billy’s lower lip between his teeth, molding the soft flesh to the sharp edge with a vicious suck.

Billy was sunk, rut crashing over him in huge, deafening waves.

He thrust his hips with a growl, dragging the tender head of his cock through Steve’s sopping wet crease, catching at his entrance before sliding past.

Steve lifted his hips in response, fumbling sweetly for Billy’s cock and the alpha within him preened.

He caught Steve’s hand, curling those elegant fingers around the base of his cock, letting him feel the first stirrings of his knot throbbing there like a promise.

“You feel that, baby? Just for you. Is that what you wanted?”

Steve nodded, Billy hissing through his teeth as those fingers tightened and explored the length and breadth of him, innocently, maddeningly.

He tried to guide Billy’s cock to his entrance, but Billy snagged him by the wrist, bringing his hand up to the pillow by his face.

He licked slowly, indulgently at the slick coating Steve’s twitching fingers as he stared into his eyes, voice a dark rumble in his throat.

“You want it? Ask me nicely.”

Steve moaned, long legs scrambling through the sheets as Billy let his other hand drift down between them, dipping one finger all the way inside, pleased when he found him open and soft enough to slip another in right away.

He pumped his hand, letting Steve feel the nudge of a third finger for a moment before corkscrewing it in, knuckles pressed against his body.

With a crook of his fingers, Steve’s eyes rolled back, cock spurting with a shocked cry.

Billy’s hand retreated gently, cupping around Steve’s hip to tilt him into position as he fitted himself against his entrance.

Tears ran down Steve’s cheeks, eyes magnified until Billy was drowning in them.

He eased forward, the very tip of him breaching Steve’s body, Steve yowling with distress when he retreated once again.

The flat front of his teeth pressed firmly, soothingly to Steve’s patch as he whispered his demand.

“Beg me, treasure.”

Steve’s fists beat at his shoulders, heels digging into the mattress as he bucked his hips with a feral growl, eyes wild.

Billy just grinned and licked at his patch, slowly pulsing the tip of his cock in and out of Steve.

Steve made a low, rough sound in his chest and Billy nearly lost control, holding back with the same gritty stubbornness that kept his feet beneath him on the heaving deck during a storm.

Sharp teeth nipped at his throat and Billy’s knot throbbed hard, muscles locking against the urge to thrust until he shook with the effort.

Those same teeth tugged fiercely at the golden hoop in his ear as the sweet, shattered sound of Steve’s voice rolled down his spine like a lightning strike.

“Billy, now! Please.”

And.

Once, when Billy had first set sail as a very young man, he had fallen overboard into the warm, churning depths of the Caribbean Sea.

The waters had closed in over his head and for a moment he had been utterly, heart-stoppingly overwhelmed.

Submerging himself in Steve’s liquid heat felt like that, and like the best thing that had ever happened to him, both at the same time.

Steve arched beneath him, throat opening around a sweet siren song crooned in Billy’s ear, broken by panting breath.

It hurt, to stay still. To seat himself so deeply only to come to a complete stop, raising up onto one elbow to search his lover’s face.

Steve’s eyes were shut, brows drawn together as he clutched at Billy’s shoulders. His belly rose and fell between them in soft swells with each rapid breath.

Billy held himself rigid and motionless until Steve opened his eyes, glazed with heat but still sharp underneath. Billy caressed his patch with his thumb, letting his hand curl lightly around his throat.

“Have I hurt you, sweetheart?”

His heart faltered at Steve’s frantic nod, affirmation hissed through his teeth.

He made to move away with a harsh inhale and a shift of his hips, but Steve wrapped long legs around his waist, hooking them together at the ankle as he tugged Billy down to him with surprising strength.

“I’ll be in ship-shape if you would just...bloody...MOVE, already!”

Steve used the leverage of his legs to lift himself insistently until Billy slid impossibly deeper, Steve’s body taking him perfectly.

Billy’s control snapped like a broken mast, plunging them into the depths of the storm.

The bed frame creaked and groaned with the force of Billy’s thrusts even as Steve shouted and cried with relief.

His nails scored lines between the scars on Billy’s back and Billy caught his hip in one hand, angling him until Steve jerked in his arms, eyes going wide just before he spilled, hot and messy between them.

Billy roared at the sight, and, god, the scent of him.

His knot pulsed and swelled, beginning to catch and tug at Steve’s entrance on every thrust.

Steve went wild, bucking and clawing and screaming pleas and promises around the shape of Billy’s name lodged in his teeth.

Billy slowed down, rocking into Steve as he moaned in protest, caressing his beautiful face with shaking fingers.

“Treasure. My pretty boy. Tell me you want this.”

Steve was a wreck, scattered on the waves. He stared up at Billy with dark, liquid eyes and Billy was never going to dream of anything else for as long as he should live.

“I want it. I’ve never wanted anything so much as this. Please.”

Billy nosed at his patch, letting the scent of him spark through his veins. His voice refused to raise above a growl.

“Please, what, princess?”

Steve took a handful of Billy’s hair at the back of his head and yanked, hard. Hard enough to bring his head up, eyes flashing. He twisted and pulled again, command edging into his voice and shooting down Billy’s spine.

“Knot me, Billy. Mate me.”

Billy smiled, unexpected joy bubbling up like sea foam. Steve’s hand gentled in his hair, petting as Billy pressed a single, soft kiss to his lips, whispering against them.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

It wasn’t an easy fit.

He didn’t slide effortlessly into Steve’s body on their next breath.

No, their mating was hard-won and all the more glorious for it.

Billy thrust slow and deep, stretching Steve with the leading curve of his knot over and over again as his body gradually relaxed, opening enough that Billy could press deeper and deeper until, with a shocked cry, Steve took him to the hilt.

It was.

He didn’t have words for it.

Steve’s inner muscles clutched and pulled at him just as his hands clutched and pulled at his head, angling him down into Steve’s throat, mouth pressed to his patch.

Steve took a deep, hitching breath, squeezing around Billy’s knot and, just like that, Billy was coming, teeth sinking into Steve’s patch as deeply and beautifully as he had sunk into his body, and.

It was done.

Unadulterated bliss entered his bloodstream as he twitched and groaned, crushing Steve into the mattress even as Steve shouted and spilled once more, clamping down on Billy’s knot. Several endless moments passed before he could unclench his jaw, licking softly at his mating mark.

Comforting his mate.

His.

Steve crooned and petted at Billy’s back with limbs clumsy-drunk from mating as Billy rocked further inside him, cock still pumping him full until Billy’s seed leaked out around them.

He couldn’t have said how long it was before he could stop shuddering and coming in Steve’s arms, his breath evening out enough to speak once more.

Billy pushed up onto his elbows, Steve whining at the pull of his knot from the new angle as Billy showered him in kisses, licking his way into his open mouth.

“My treasure. Mine.”

Steve hummed in agreement, arching and stretching lazily beneath him before his eyes sharpened and caught on Billy’s throat, the Alpha’s glands still swollen and aching.

He tilted Billy’s chin up with one strong hand, allowing the other to roll his thumb across the swell.

Billy groaned heavily, cock jumping in Steve’s tight, wet grip.

Steve licked his lips, breath picking up speed as he stared at his thumb, massaging mercilessly.

“Billy. Can I?”

Billy’s hips shoved forward, moving them up the bed until the top of Steve’s head touched the headboard. He couldn’t stop the movement, rocking into Steve in short, deep thrusts, the wet sounds of their mating echoing the waves breaking against the ship’s hull.

His voice broke just the same, his mate’s name rising from his throat.

“Yes. Please. Please, Steve. Claim me.”

It wasn’t something that most mated pairs did. Billy had seen precious few Alphas walking around with mating marks, but.

No other Alpha was mated to Captain Steve Harrington.

Steve shushed him like Billy was the virgin in their bed, knees coming up to cradle his body as his hands guided Billy’s mouth to his own fresh mark, his patch hot beneath Billy’s tongue.

Billy’s hips picked up speed, unable to pull out of their lock at all now but pushing harder and faster inside as Steve lifted to meet him. He could feel his second release gathering momentum, tingling in his knot.

Steve’s lips touched first, soft and sweet, opening around his questing tongue. He licked gently, once, and then roughly until Billy was nothing but ache, centered in his mating glands and coursing through his entire body.

He fitted his teeth to the grooves of Steve’s mark, tracing the edges with his tongue as Steve’s scent spiked once more just before his own teeth breached Billy’s skin.

His orgasm crashed through him directly on the heels of Steve’s bite, pleasure and pain melding into a tempest of sensation and Billy was lost.

He only began to surface as Steve struggled to fit his hand between them with an insistent whine, reaching for his stiff wet cock.

Billy knocked his hands away before rolling them slowly, carefully until he rested on his back with Steve on his knees above him.

Then Billy took his cock in hand as Steve rocked and whimpered, trying to bounce only once before stopping with a sharp cry at the pull of Billy’s full knot.

He was able to wring one last orgasm from his mate before Steve collapsed onto his chest, legs stretched out alongside Billy’s on the bed, still tied together.

Billy brought fingers to his own neck to trace the impression of Steve’s teeth while he petted the other hand down his mate’s back until their tangled limbs grew heavy with sleep.

They went under together, as if they were taking the first step into their new life as a mated pair.

Billy dreamed of Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m at a crossroads with this story.
> 
> I can’t decide if I want to end it here and make it into a series or not.  
> I have a few smaller stories I’m working on for this AU because pirate Billy and sailor Steve are so much fun to write, but they aren’t necessarily part of this story.
> 
> Should I make it a series? Anyone interested in reading that?
> 
> ETA: I’m now on tumblr as both heck-in-a-handbasket and acthomasbooks if anyone wants to scream at me!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is going to be bodice-ripper trash. Who’s on board?


End file.
